Yusuf Zuck decided to stay in the United States and had the intention to take over the syndicate; hence, Maurice Singleton naturally had to call over the syndicate’s top dogs to meet with the big boss. In fact, other top dogs were also on their way.
Not long after Maurice went out on a matter, a steward stationed in New York, who was essentially a hall master, arrived at the villa.
"Hey, Hobby, do you know what kind of meeting the boss is holding?" The visitor was a big fat man; Americans eat things like cream bread, so by middle age, they’re all quite fat, both men and women alike, and all out of shape.
"I know," said Hobby from the courtyard, speaking softly, "The boss said the person inside is our syndicate’s real big boss, he is the boss’s boss."
"Oh? The real big boss has come?" The manager from New York was named ’Denzel’. He was part of the company’s upper echelon, so he knew the company’s secrets. After all, 40 percent of the company’s profits were paid to one person every month; the higher-ups were all aware of this. Of course, there were many who harbored resentment, but since Maurice was ruthless, even if they had complaints, they didn’t dare speak out directly.
Many people thought Maurice was lying, that he pocketed that 40 percent of the profits himself.
"I’m going to take a look inside." Denzel’s mouth curved slightly upward as he walked into the villa with two bodyguards.
Inside the villa, Yusuf Zuck sat quietly on the sofa, flipping through a Playboy magazine. However, he couldn’t recognize a single word in the magazine and could only look at the pictures of beautiful women and handsome men.
Seeing a big-bellied man walk in, Yusuf Zuck just glanced up at him and then continued reading his magazine.
From the moment Denzel entered the yard, Yusuf Zuck knew he was there. However, due to the language barrier, he had no idea what Denzel and Hobby were discussing.
Denzel’s two bodyguards, one black and one white, were both bulging at the waist and stared menacingly, very muscular.
Denzel also froze for a moment upon seeing Yusuf Zuck; he had an Eastern visage, was young, and as thin as a pole, almost like a weak scholar, even weaker than an actual scholar, looking like someone suffering from consumption.
"Hello, my name is Denzel." Denzel wasn’t too presumptuous. Since he was Maurice’s boss, he still needed to put on a show of respect on the surface. Of course, he was also testing the consumptive—what did he do to deserve taking 40 percent of the company’s dividends?
Denzel spoke in American English, which was like "hello" and something like "I am this and that."
Although Yusuf Zuck couldn’t understand English, he understood Denzel’s self-introduction. "Hello" meant a greeting, and "I am" meant someone is who they are.
"Hello." Yusuf Zuck raised his head symbolically and simply said one "Hello."
"May I ask, what is your name? Can you tell me?" Denzel rambled on in more gibberish.
This time, Yusuf Zuck genuinely didn’t understand and simply shrugged, saying in Chinese, "Sorry, I don’t understand!" Yusuf Zuck smiled and pointed to his ear.
"F*ck, can’t even speak English?" Denzel almost exploded; where the hell did this consumptive come from if he can’t even speak English, yet he gets 40 percent of their company’s stock?
Yusuf Zuck still didn’t understand, but seeing Denzel’s expression seemed very angry, he shrugged again and continued to read the magazine.
Out of patience, Denzel thought for a moment, then took out his phone to call the other company higher-ups, sharing what he had seen and heard here! Thɪs chapter is updated by novel[f]ire.net
"We’ll be there soon. Maurice owes us an explanation for the 40 percent of company shares going to an Eastern weakling," the voice on the phone said.
"Kill him?" Denzel asked.
"Let’s see what Maurice says. If he doesn’t have a credible reason, then we’ll get rid of him. The 40 percent of stock is enough for us to divide up."
"Alright, you guys hurry over," said Denzel after hanging up. He sat down, motioning for his bodyguards to make him a cup of coffee, and he casually crossed his legs, sitting opposite Yusuf Zuck, looking at him with a smirk.
Yusuf Zuck looked up at him, then cracked a smile.
Denzel laughed heartily: "Are you Chinese?"
"Yes!" Yusuf Zuck nodded, understanding this question, asking if he was Chinese.
"I’ve never been to China, but there’s one thing I got right, all Chinese are the sick men of East Asia, haha." Denzel laughed heartily, uttering a string of words Yusuf Zuck couldn’t understand.
Yusuf Zuck nodded with a smile, he truly didn’t understand.
"You admit it yourself? That’s very self-aware!" Denzel sighed, "Later, you and Maurice Singleton will need to give us a reason. Although Maurice is the boss, if he doesn’t have a good enough reason, we’ll get rid of you too. You don’t have a problem with that, do you?"
Yusuf Zuck nodded again, still smiling.
"Pfft—" The two bodyguards at the door finally couldn’t hold back their laughter.
"Boss, you’re casting pearls before swine!" the white bodyguard laughed.
The black bodyguard also chuckled: "He doesn’t even know he is about to die."
"How sad, he doesn’t even understand what we’re saying..." Denzel let out a long sigh. This little sick man of East Asia was going to die today.
The outside of the villa became lively as several cars arrived one after another and a few leaders were ushered in, among them a blonde woman around thirty years old.
Each person was flanked by two bodyguards.
In total, eight. Once the eight people came in, they didn’t pay attention to Yusuf Zuck but talked rapidly with Denzel.
"Alright, it’s settled then. How could we let the profits we worked so hard for go to a sicko? When Maurice comes back, he’ll have to explain to us too." The eight executives quickly reached a unanimous decision: today, Maurice must explain to them.
Maurice returned rather quickly and even brought back a Chinese man around thirty years old. However, this man wasn’t very tall, with a stubbly beard, and he looked rather haggard. After entering, his gaze shifted dodgily.
At the same time, Maurice also had a paper bag in his hand, which contained a coat similar to the kind worn by the Pope in Rome, black with red cuffs and trim!
"Boss, what do you think of this coat?"
Yusuf Zuck took out the robe and put it on; it fit perfectly. The robe even had a hood on the back. As soon as he put the hood on his head, the face mask automatically dropped down; it was made of black gauze, and then no one could see his face clearly.
"It’s very stylish." Yusuf Zuck wanted just this effect. He didn’t want to show his true face, so this robe was perfect. Wearing it in the future, no one would recognize him.
"Boss, his name is Wells Merritt, a peripheral figure in the company. He comes from a clear background. His father was an official in your area, but he went to prison for taking bribes a few years ago, and his mother died, so he joined us after having nowhere else to turn here. He sells drugs on the periphery and now he has come to be your translator!"
"Hello, boss." Wells Merritt bowed and extended his hands with a nod, thinking that the big boss of their gang was his fellow countryman. This meant he might have a chance to make something of himself in the future, so he obviously had to fawn over him now.
"Stand up straight," Yusuf Zuck said coldly in his black robe, his face mask on: "Remember, you are Chinese. I don’t care what your forefathers were like, but you must have the spine of a Chinese."
"Yes, boss." Wells Merritt straightened up but didn’t dare to stand too upright, purely out of fear.
At that moment, an executive named Mike suddenly spoke up. He gave Yusuf Zuck a cold look, then turned to Maurice Singleton, who was standing respectfully by Yusuf Zuck’s side, and said, "Boss, is this the guy who takes forty percent of our profits every month? Please explain!"
"Mike, mind your language. What are you trying to do?" Maurice Singleton narrowed his eyes.
Yusuf Zuck sensed something was amiss in the room’s atmosphere, so he turned to Wells Merritt and asked, "What are they saying?"
"The man speaking is Mike, he’s the head of the company. He’s asking Maurice Singleton, the boss, why you get forty percent of the profits every month and wants an explanation from Maurice!" Wells Merritt’s voice trembled slightly, because he noticed many bodyguards were reaching for the guns at their waists.
PS: Continuing with four updates, thanks to the classmates who gave rewards yesterday, thank you.