"Yes, I noticed more police cars and officers when I arrived. Has sothing happened again?" Chopin also looked at Raphael.
"Fick from 'Palermo' was found murdered in his own bathtub, killed instantly by a single shot."
Director Mo Luo stepped out of the elevator, scrutinizing the elegant bathroom. There were no signs of forced entry on the door, nor any evidence of struggle inside the room. Fick's body still soaked in the tub while the staff processed the scene, gathering fingerprints and clues. Yet, with his years of investigative experience, he foresaw likely returning empty-handed again; such a clean cri scene either ant ticulous scrubbing by the perpetrator or... Considering this, Mo Luo sighed.
"Director!" A young detective hurried to his side. "Augusto is coming up, he's in the elevator heading this way."
"Who let him up?!" Mo Luo frowned, rubbing his bald head. If that Mafia boss were to make trouble here, surviving the night might be out of the question.
"Director, he ca up alone; everyone else is still downstairs." The young detective seed to notice their director's hesitation and quickly added.
"Understood!" Mo Luo traversed from the other side of the bathroom to the open terrace. "Damn, this Fick really knew how to enjoy life." Mo Luo muttered under the starlit sky, which cast colorful reflections on the glass enclosure.
"Director Mo Luo!" Augusto strode through the bathroom onto the terrace outside. He didn't need to understand what transpired; it was the police's job to catch the killer, an entitlent for their taxpayers. Even while being the Mafia leader in front of the police commissioner, there was absolutely no emotion for these people who survive on their money.
"Mr. Lucchesi!" Mo Luo extended his hand, tightly gripping Augusto's.
"Having to trouble you again this ti."
"Am I allowed to take Fick's body back to the station?" Fick was a mber of the Lucchesi Clan. Without the big boss's approval, he dared not act; family adhered to its own rules.
"Fick belongs to our Lucchesi Clan, so I cannot agree to that. However, as long as the director can find the murderer, our Lucchesi Clan will cooperate in every aspect. Should the director fail to solve this case promptly, I'm notifying you now, the Lucchesi will not take this lying down. Even if we must overturn all of Sicily, I will find this person." Augusto, with a cold and ruthless deanor resembling Grim Reaper in the moonlight, stood before Mo Luo.
"Mr. Lucchesi, it's better for us law enforcent to handle this matter. I understand how you feel right now, but…" Augusto didn't leave Mo Luo any chance to speak; he simply declared his intentions before leaving.
"Mr. Lucchesi!" Mo Luo called after him, realizing he had already expelled everyone from the bathroom while family mbers had arrived, all notable figures who managed to assemble even during leisure hours, making Mo Luo's scattered subordinates seem lackluster in comparison.
Mo Luo left the space to these individuals, standing alone on the terrace, puffing on what remained of his cigar. In this Mafia-infested sacred land, he naturally understood the art of interaction where balance was necessary. Both sides needed appeasing. Today, as there's mourning in their house, he couldn't insensitively intervene; if no big disturbance was wrought, he preferred letting things slide.
Fick's body was extracted from the bathtub, half his head blown away, while soaking in the bathtub it didn't seem inappropriate. However, upon extraction, his death appeared particularly tragic.
"I want to know who did this within a day!" Augusto roared like a ferocious beast. Fick had been by his side for years, despite his arrogance rooted in the Lucchesi Clan, his loyalty to the clan was well-known. Now, soone dared target the Lucchesi Clan, a rare provocation.
"Inform all senior mbers above level one to attend a eting in ten minutes. I expect everyone present, any tardiness or absence will result in execution without rcy."
Augusto stord out of the bathroom with wrath, akin to a raging lion. His black sports car with silver stripes roared violently down the streets like its owner, undeterred by obstacles. No one dared halt the vehicle unless they wished death, and those nearly struck by it regarded themselves unfortunate.
As Augusto's beastly vehicle emitted a thunderous roar, Raphael, slightly intoxicated, carried a wineglass toward the silent Xiao Lin. "Mr. Xiao, let toast to you."
By now, this wasn't the first such toast that night, and each ti after uttering this phrase, he drained the glass independently, prompting a raise of Xiao Lin's brows.
"I think he's drunk!" Chopin shook his head; he too had imbibed generously tonight.
"I'll take you guys ho."
"Oh no, I've already booked a room here, you just take Chopin ho. He's an international star after all, Mr. Xiao shouldn't refuse to look after him for as a repaynt for saving you today, would you?" Raphael foolishly chuckled again, appearing truly drunk.
"No problem, I'm happy to help." Xiao Lin and Chopin lifted him together.
"Oh I can walk alone." Raphael brushed them off, summoning his bodyguards. "They'll suffice. Palermo's been chaotic lately; even I, an unaffiliated gang mber, must tread carefully. Poor Fick's fate could befall !"
Xiao Lin wanted to say sothing, but Chopin patted his shoulder. "No worries, we'll go ahead."
"OK! OK!"
Raphael wavered alongside Xiao Lin and Chopin into the elevator, leaning his alcohol-flushed face against the tal panel inside, "Ah, so refreshing! Why not try it, cooling guaranteed."
Ding! The elevator doors opened, Raphael waved as he stepped out supported by bodyguards. "Take care! Watch out for crazy Augusto! Hahaha!"
"He really seems drunk!" Chopin continued shaking his head.
"Maybe!" Xiao Lin smirked faintly, as the elevator continued downward.
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