Marvel 1919 : Rise of an Empire

The next day, George stood once again at the entrance of the Silver Legacy Hotel.

After his call with Corleone that night, George left a clone at home, then detoured to the winery and stored 300,000 liters of Water in his space.

As his space gradually expanded, George could now store at least 500,000 liters of Water, though the new unified wine cellar had not yet been built.

The current storage was still separate. Taking too much at once would cause unnecessary trouble.

These 300,000 liters came from the two previous wine cellars, which had been prepared long ago. No one would enter these cellars without George's instructions, so taking from them went unnoticed. Still, George informed Allison the next day, instructing her to continue storing Water in those cellars.

Upon entering the hotel, George saw two Jewish men in suits and hats approach him.

They stopped in front of George and said, "Mr. Orwell, please follow us. The Mister is waiting for you."

Without another word, they turned and walked upstairs. Another man followed behind George.

Seeing their actions, George's lips curved into a faint smile.

He followed them to a small reception room, where several men in suits were already waiting. They were bodyguards.

As George entered, they slowly placed their hands inside their jackets, ready to draw weapons at a moment's notice.

George didn't care about these small fries.

The man who had led him in stopped in the middle of the room, turned around, and said, "Excuse me, Mr. Orwell, we need to frisk you."

"Are you kidding me?" George looked disdainfully at the seven men slowly surrounding him.

"We're just thinking about Mr. Luciano's safety."

"Then try it," George replied, deliberately spreading his hands as if indifferent.

The man gestured to a nearby bodyguard.

The guard stepped forward to frisk George, but George instantly grabbed his neck, lifted him with one hand, and hurled him at the two men on the left. They were knocked down immediately.

As the others began to react, George pivoted and kicked the two men behind him. They flew across the room and slammed into the wall.

The last two bodyguards reached for their pistols, but George sidestepped and moved between them.

He locked both their necks from behind, exerted slight force, and they froze.

Bringing their heads together with a crash, blood spurted from their faces as they collapsed, unconscious.

George let go, and they dropped limply to the floor.

He smirked. He hadn't even used much force. They were laughably weak.

He turned to the man who had brought him in and smiled. "Why don't you try frisking me yourself?"

The man immediately straightened up, his voice trembling. "Sir, you misunderstood. We're just following protocol, that's all."

"Relax. I left you standing because you're still useful. Go tell Mr. Luciano I'm here. My time is precious too."

The man nodded and quickly exited.

Anyone who witnessed seven trained men get taken down so effortlessly would be afraid. This young man looked barely an adult, yet his power was terrifying. Better to leave quickly.

George let him go without another word. He needed someone to pass the message along.

He came to negotiate, not start a war. If it were just about killing, a gun would be faster.

George suspected the earlier attempt to frisk him was a setup. Why else would armed men wait in that room?

But as a civilized man, he preferred a face-to-face talk. If he started murdering everyone openly, how would he maintain his quiet millionaire lifestyle?

Less than two minutes later, the man returned and invited George to follow him again.

This time, they arrived at a large office. A set of sofas sat opposite a massive desk.

A slightly plump man, around 1.75 meters tall, sat smoking a cigar on the sofa facing the door.

George entered, and the man who had escorted him bowed slightly before leaving.

George assumed this was Luciano. Without hesitation, he sat across from him.

He looked at the middle-aged man and said with a smile, "So this is how the famous boss of the Jewish Gang welcomes guests. Truly an eye-opener."

Luciano withdrew his aggressive gaze and replied, "Mr. Orwell's actions weren't exactly those of a guest, were they?"

"Oh, so I should've just let you frisk me? Fine. Want to try again?" He grinned and looked at the men behind Luciano.

Luciano chuckled and waved them away. Only a bespectacled middle-aged man remained.

"My subordinates didn't understand the rules. Since you've already punished them, we won't speak of it again. Mr. Orwell, would you like something to drink?"

"Let's move on. Coffee is fine. Thank you."

The bespectacled man summoned someone to bring coffee. George didn't touch it.

"Vito told me you're interested in buying a casino in Reno. Is that true?"

"I had the idea before."

"Before?"

"Back then, I thought running a casino would be easy. But in this economic climate, how many people still want to gamble?"

"There are still plenty of wealthy people. Like Mr. George, who won over ten million in the last competition, and must be profiting from his monthly Water business."

"Is making money illegal now?"

George understood they had discovered he was supplying Water to the Italian families led by Corleone.

Before his involvement, Corleone's share in New York's black market Water business was minimal. The Jewish Gang controlled the market.

But once George began supplying Water, the Corleone Family carved out a large share of the high-end market.

This wasn't just about profits. It was about connections—in politics and law enforcement.

In the film, Corleone was able to suppress the other four families because they wanted access to his legal and political connections for their cocaine smuggling operations.

Connections matter.

George had not attempted to hide himself during several transactions with Tessio, so he wasn't surprised to be traced.

"That's not it. I'm just amazed by your capabilities. I believe in win-win cooperation, and that's why we invited you. In terms of strength, we can outperform Corleone."

"Aren't you all on the same side? Won't Corleone be upset if you steal his business?"

"We're not taking everything. We can divide it. There's strength in numbers."

George thought it over. By next year, his winery would produce six million liters of Water. Corleone and his allies wouldn't be able to absorb it all.

Expanding to new sales channels was inevitable.

"You're right. But first, the supply is limited. Second, we can't handle broader distribution yet."

Luciano's face soured.

George added, "Actually, by next year, I can supply large quantities of high-quality Water."

"Next year is too late. We want it now. What should we do?"

"Then I can't help you. You can ask Corleone for a share. But if you plan to play tricks, think carefully."

That was why Luciano hadn't acted. Taking George down would have allowed them to seize the Water source and transport routes.

But the ambush failed. George wasn't ordinary. And Corleone's protection complicated things.

Luciano realized that even if he mobilized dozens of gunmen, the casino's crowds and witnesses limited his options.

He had to wait.

Luciano smiled. "Then I'll speak with Vito again. Let's talk about the casino."

The explanation was simple. The Jewish Gang wanted to sell their Reno casino.

It was owned by a Jewish steel magnate; the Gang provided security and ran high-interest lending from it. Their real business in Reno was cocaine and prostitution.

Due to the economic downturn, the steel industry was in trouble. Gamblers had dwindled, and profits plummeted. The owner wanted out.

George realized this was why Corleone hadn't heard anything when he asked earlier. Now, they were actively looking for a buyer.

He was the scapegoat.

Still, George smiled. "May I ask the price?"

"13 million USD," Luciano said, launching into a speech about monthly earnings.

Good heavens, George thought. Not only was he the scapegoat—they were trying to scam him too.

"Does the 13 million include the license and personnel?"

Luciano, thinking George was interested, smiled. "Of course. That includes the hotel, casino procedures, and hotel staff. For protection, just pay us \$500,000 a month."

This wasn't greed—it was robbery.

They didn't mention the casino staff or technical director, vital roles in a legal casino.

George remembered their earlier earnings. Even in good times, their entire operation barely made over a million per month.

Now, they wanted half a million monthly in protection?

George smiled. "That price is too high. Are there any cheaper casinos available?"

"The others don't have good profitability. This one is the best."

George didn't argue. He said he needed time to consider it. He'd just arrived and wanted to rest.

Luciano didn't push. The longer George stayed, the easier it would be to deal with him.

He arranged a room and invited George to dinner.

George declined, citing travel fatigue.

In his room, George turned on the bathroom tap to mask sounds.

He soon noticed someone passing his door every two minutes, lingering each time. Surveillance.

Without delay, George opened the window and left Reno.

It was the end of the month, just days before the scheduled Water delivery. He decided to deliver the Water for July early.

End of Chapter 31

Translator's Notes:

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