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american comcis _ tales of caltiveter _chapter_0049_part_02
Chapter 64
chapter 0049 part 2
"Mr. Tang, the assassination attempt last time was our fault. We are willing to show our sincerity!" "Sincerity?" Tang Song looked at Sloan and shook his finger. "I don't need any sincerity. I'll give you one chance. One month to kill Kingpin. Otherwise, the Brotherhood of Assassins will belong to the Tang family!"
Sloan's expression froze. His hand subconsciously moved into his sleeve, where an old-fashioned Colt handgun was hidden.
...
Would the influx of five billion Super US Dollars into the Market cause significant damage?
As a superpower in the Marvel World, the Federation prints trillions of US Dollars annually.
The amount of five billion Super US Dollars entering the Market is insignificant to the entire Federation. However, the problem is that these Super US Dollars are indistinguishable from the real thing.
Not only can ordinary convenience stores, supermarkets, and car washes' Counterfeit Detectors not distinguish between genuine and fake, but even small banks' Counterfeit Detectors sometimes fail to identify them.
This has a huge impact.
As everyone knows, the issuance of Federal US Dollars is done by the Federal Reserve Board.
Its printing comes from the Bureau of the Mint. The complex procedures and anti-counterfeiting marks make it extremely difficult to counterfeit.
But once someone successfully counterfeits it, they are essentially stealing money from the Federation.
As a superpower, the US Dollar is not only the legal currency of the Federation but is also universally accepted internationally. If these indistinguishable Super US Dollars are not stopped, the consequence will be a slow bleeding of the Federation. The FBI is one of the world's most famous and important intelligence agencies of the Federation, subordinate to the Department of Justice.
The FBI's mission is to investigate criminals who violate federal law, uphold the law, protect the Federation, investigate foreign intelligence and terrorist activity, and enforce leadership and law.
Simply put, the FBI operates domestically, while the corresponding CIA conducts intelligence operations in other countries.
And now, both FBI Police Officers and CIA Agents are busy like donkeys being whipped, working non-stop.
The cause of the matter is simple: the Federal Reserve has successively received many highly sophisticated counterfeit US Dollars.
As the central bank of the Federation, yet independent of the Federal Government, it is clear how powerful the forces hidden behind the Federal Reserve are.
Now that someone is snatching food from their bowl, the Chairman of the Federal Reserve's call went directly to the President's office.
Needless to say, pressure was applied layer by layer, and the matter was quickly pushed down to the FBI. Originally, the CIA had nothing to do with it, but during their investigation, FBI Agents discovered traces of Super US Dollars overseas, in Europe, and the Middle East.
The FBI's Boss deflected the trouble, making a call that directly involved the CIA as well.
The source of the overseas Super US Dollars is the responsibility of the CIA, while within the Federation, it is the responsibility of the FBI.
As the Federation's largest intelligence agency, it didn't take them many days to lock onto the source of the Super US Dollars.
Kingpin, the Underground Emperor of New York, or rather, the Crime Boss of the Federation. Many Super US Dollars were flowing out from his industries.
For a time, the FBI Agents responsible for the investigation were stumped. Unless they were fresh recruits, no one wanted to provoke Kingpin.
Wilson Grant Fisk's files are stored in a dedicated room at FBI headquarters.
It lists his various evil deeds: kidnapping, extortion, smuggling, drug trafficking...
With a room full of criminal files, the FBI still had no way to deal with Kingpin. This Crime Boss didn't mind taking on the charge of manufacturing Counterfeit Money.
"Organized crime can now be run like a Business... The Chairman and the Board of Directors will be - Kingpin!" This is Kingpin's classic quote.
Two successive FBI Directors had attempted to take action against this arrogant man, but each targeted operation only resulted in the capture of a bunch of henchmen.
As for Kingpin, his cunning nature, vast legal team, and complex network of connections behind him made it impossible for the FBI to touch him.
Quantico, Virginia, Federation. FBI Headquarters. "Kingpin!"
Armand Tullus, over fifty years old, is the fifteenth Director of the FBI.
The Director sat in his office, listening to the report from his Subordinates, his brows furrowed into a tight knot.
As the Boss of the FBI, he naturally knew how difficult Kingpin was to deal with.
But the pressure from the President's side also made him uncomfortable.
Armand Tullus sighed, just about to order the FBI Agents in New York to investigate Kingpin.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a piece of information in front of him, information sent from the New York Police Department (NYPD).
...
New York, Chrysler Building.
On the top floor of the Skyscraper, Kingpin, dressed in a white Suit and leaning on a Cane, stood by the floor-to-ceiling window. His massive frame, like a mountain of flesh, showed no sign of being bloated; his stout body gave off a feeling of extreme strength.
His business spanned the globe.
In terms of martial prowess, Kingpin himself was a top-tier martial arts master. Having been injected with a certain secondary serum developed by the military, he possessed several times the strength of an ordinary person.
At this moment, the Crime Boss, powerful in both martial arts and influence, had a gloomy expression. On his desk lay a court summons.
What is the ultimate fate of a gangster boss?
This is not a philosophical question.
Many people would say it's going to prison for further education, which sounds like a Hell joke.
But in the Federation Government's prisons, many once-powerful gangster bosses are indeed locked up.
Among them are many of Kingpin's predecessors.
The earliest of them could even be traced back to the Prohibition era, their influence once spanning half the Federation.
However, after losing their value, they were locked up in prison, living more miserably than dogs.
Whitewashing his image has always been Kingpin's long-held wish.
No matter how successful a gang leader is, in the eyes of truly upper-class figures, he is always just a chamber pot.
Used when needed, and tucked under the bed when not.
Kingpin didn't want to be a chamber pot forever. For years, he had been dedicated to whitewashing his image and doing charity work.
Now, he was a Councillor in the New York City Council.
Frankly speaking, his reputation among ordinary citizens now even surpassed that of some government officials.
And now, an arrest warrant and a court summons were about to destroy his image.
Kingpin grinned, his stark white teeth like a bloodthirsty shark.
"Contact the top legal team in the Federation for me! Invite all the top lawyers!"
"Yes, Boss!" The Subordinate beside him lowered his head. In front of this unpredictable BOSS, it was better to say less and not talk too much.
Perhaps one wrong word that displeased the Boss, and they would be sent away with a strike from his Cane.
A few pesky bugs couldn't help but jump out, so he would just crush them.
Kingpin looked down at the Skyscrapers outside the building, his face extremely cold.
...
Of course, all these events were part of Tang Song's plan.
To deal with a deeply entrenched gangster boss, the first step is to prune the branches and leaves of this big tree.
Make him have many enemies, and then Tang Song would just give a gentle push.
Boom, the big tree would collapse.
News from New York was gradually compiled for Tang Song. Tang Song lay leisurely under a sun umbrella in beach shorts, his eyes half-closed behind sunglasses, looking at the azure sea before him.
Poor Kingpin, he wondered if he was currently overwhelmed with problems.
Tang Song picked up a glass of champagne from the small table beside him and took a sip.
Around him, four large white men in black suits and sunglasses blocked various beautiful women who wanted to strike up a conversation.
This super cruise ship named Costa Concordia departed from New York, its destination Italy.
(End of Chapter)
"Mr. Tang, the assassination attempt last time was our fault. We are willing to show our sincerity!" "Sincerity?" Tang Song looked at Sloan and shook his finger. "I don't need any sincerity. I'll give you one chance. One month to kill Kingpin. Otherwise, the Brotherhood of Assassins will belong to the Tang family!"
Sloan's expression froze. His hand subconsciously moved into his sleeve, where an old-fashioned Colt handgun was hidden.
...
Would the influx of five billion Super US Dollars into the Market cause significant damage?
As a superpower in the Marvel World, the Federation prints trillions of US Dollars annually.
The amount of five billion Super US Dollars entering the Market is insignificant to the entire Federation. However, the problem is that these Super US Dollars are indistinguishable from the real thing.
Not only can ordinary convenience stores, supermarkets, and car washes' Counterfeit Detectors not distinguish between genuine and fake, but even small banks' Counterfeit Detectors sometimes fail to identify them.
This has a huge impact.
As everyone knows, the issuance of Federal US Dollars is done by the Federal Reserve Board.
Its printing comes from the Bureau of the Mint. The complex procedures and anti-counterfeiting marks make it extremely difficult to counterfeit.
But once someone successfully counterfeits it, they are essentially stealing money from the Federation.
As a superpower, the US Dollar is not only the legal currency of the Federation but is also universally accepted internationally. If these indistinguishable Super US Dollars are not stopped, the consequence will be a slow bleeding of the Federation. The FBI is one of the world's most famous and important intelligence agencies of the Federation, subordinate to the Department of Justice.
The FBI's mission is to investigate criminals who violate federal law, uphold the law, protect the Federation, investigate foreign intelligence and terrorist activity, and enforce leadership and law.
Simply put, the FBI operates domestically, while the corresponding CIA conducts intelligence operations in other countries.
And now, both FBI Police Officers and CIA Agents are busy like donkeys being whipped, working non-stop.
The cause of the matter is simple: the Federal Reserve has successively received many highly sophisticated counterfeit US Dollars.
As the central bank of the Federation, yet independent of the Federal Government, it is clear how powerful the forces hidden behind the Federal Reserve are.
Now that someone is snatching food from their bowl, the Chairman of the Federal Reserve's call went directly to the President's office.
Needless to say, pressure was applied layer by layer, and the matter was quickly pushed down to the FBI. Originally, the CIA had nothing to do with it, but during their investigation, FBI Agents discovered traces of Super US Dollars overseas, in Europe, and the Middle East.
The FBI's Boss deflected the trouble, making a call that directly involved the CIA as well.
The source of the overseas Super US Dollars is the responsibility of the CIA, while within the Federation, it is the responsibility of the FBI.
As the Federation's largest intelligence agency, it didn't take them many days to lock onto the source of the Super US Dollars.
Kingpin, the Underground Emperor of New York, or rather, the Crime Boss of the Federation. Many Super US Dollars were flowing out from his industries.
For a time, the FBI Agents responsible for the investigation were stumped. Unless they were fresh recruits, no one wanted to provoke Kingpin.
Wilson Grant Fisk's files are stored in a dedicated room at FBI headquarters.
It lists his various evil deeds: kidnapping, extortion, smuggling, drug trafficking...
With a room full of criminal files, the FBI still had no way to deal with Kingpin. This Crime Boss didn't mind taking on the charge of manufacturing Counterfeit Money.
"Organized crime can now be run like a Business... The Chairman and the Board of Directors will be - Kingpin!" This is Kingpin's classic quote.
Two successive FBI Directors had attempted to take action against this arrogant man, but each targeted operation only resulted in the capture of a bunch of henchmen.
As for Kingpin, his cunning nature, vast legal team, and complex network of connections behind him made it impossible for the FBI to touch him.
Quantico, Virginia, Federation. FBI Headquarters. "Kingpin!"
Armand Tullus, over fifty years old, is the fifteenth Director of the FBI.
The Director sat in his office, listening to the report from his Subordinates, his brows furrowed into a tight knot.
As the Boss of the FBI, he naturally knew how difficult Kingpin was to deal with.
But the pressure from the President's side also made him uncomfortable.
Armand Tullus sighed, just about to order the FBI Agents in New York to investigate Kingpin.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a piece of information in front of him, information sent from the New York Police Department (NYPD).
...
New York, Chrysler Building.
On the top floor of the Skyscraper, Kingpin, dressed in a white Suit and leaning on a Cane, stood by the floor-to-ceiling window. His massive frame, like a mountain of flesh, showed no sign of being bloated; his stout body gave off a feeling of extreme strength.
His business spanned the globe.
In terms of martial prowess, Kingpin himself was a top-tier martial arts master. Having been injected with a certain secondary serum developed by the military, he possessed several times the strength of an ordinary person.
At this moment, the Crime Boss, powerful in both martial arts and influence, had a gloomy expression. On his desk lay a court summons.
What is the ultimate fate of a gangster boss?
This is not a philosophical question.
Many people would say it's going to prison for further education, which sounds like a Hell joke.
But in the Federation Government's prisons, many once-powerful gangster bosses are indeed locked up.
Among them are many of Kingpin's predecessors.
The earliest of them could even be traced back to the Prohibition era, their influence once spanning half the Federation.
However, after losing their value, they were locked up in prison, living more miserably than dogs.
Whitewashing his image has always been Kingpin's long-held wish.
No matter how successful a gang leader is, in the eyes of truly upper-class figures, he is always just a chamber pot.
Used when needed, and tucked under the bed when not.
Kingpin didn't want to be a chamber pot forever. For years, he had been dedicated to whitewashing his image and doing charity work.
Now, he was a Councillor in the New York City Council.
Frankly speaking, his reputation among ordinary citizens now even surpassed that of some government officials.
And now, an arrest warrant and a court summons were about to destroy his image.
Kingpin grinned, his stark white teeth like a bloodthirsty shark.
"Contact the top legal team in the Federation for me! Invite all the top lawyers!"
"Yes, Boss!" The Subordinate beside him lowered his head. In front of this unpredictable BOSS, it was better to say less and not talk too much.
Perhaps one wrong word that displeased the Boss, and they would be sent away with a strike from his Cane.
A few pesky bugs couldn't help but jump out, so he would just crush them.
Kingpin looked down at the Skyscrapers outside the building, his face extremely cold.
...
Of course, all these events were part of Tang Song's plan.
To deal with a deeply entrenched gangster boss, the first step is to prune the branches and leaves of this big tree.
Make him have many enemies, and then Tang Song would just give a gentle push.
Boom, the big tree would collapse.
News from New York was gradually compiled for Tang Song. Tang Song lay leisurely under a sun umbrella in beach shorts, his eyes half-closed behind sunglasses, looking at the azure sea before him.
Poor Kingpin, he wondered if he was currently overwhelmed with problems.
Tang Song picked up a glass of champagne from the small table beside him and took a sip.
Around him, four large white men in black suits and sunglasses blocked various beautiful women who wanted to strike up a conversation.
This super cruise ship named Costa Concordia departed from New York, its destination Italy.
(End of Chapter)
