After several rounds of drinks and courses, Jason put down his knife and fork and looked at the six men before him with a smile.
The organization had held internal discussions on how to deal with these gang bosses.
Jason's original plan was simply to wipe them all out in one fell swoop—to take all the meat for himself and not even leave them the broth. But Christine, who had once run a gang of her own, offered a different opinion.
Running a gang is no easier than running a corporation. In New York alone, there were hundreds of thousands of street-level thugs and tens of thousands of professional gangsters. If Jason tried to swallow all that in one bite, he'd be faced with managing those tens of thousands of gangsters all by himself.
Furthermore, a gang's business operations were incredibly complex. Even after all his years working for Kingpin, Jason couldn't possibly know every facet. To manage these tens of thousands of gangsters required a massive number of mid- and upper-level managers. These people needed years of experience, a deep knowledge of gang management, and a thorough understanding of the rules in their respective fields.
Unfortunately, Jason had no one under his command who met these criteria.
If he tried to train people from scratch, it would be at least half a year, conservatively, before the gangs started turning a profit. And during that half-year, Jason would have to feed those tens of thousands of mouths, which would require an enormous cash flow.
In short, a hostile takeover was clearly not in the best interests of Jason or his organization.
According to Christine's plan, they should instead bring the major gangs under their control and form an alliance. All members would be required to share their channels, resources, and connections. The revenue of all member gangs would be turned over to the alliance, which would then distribute the profits proportionally.
If everything went smoothly, the organization could be turning a profit in the very first month of the alliance's formation.
Although Jason was slightly displeased about having to share the profits, it was the best option under the circumstances.
When Jason put down his utensils, the six other bosses immediately stopped eating and watched him nervously.
Jason smiled and waved a hand dismissively. "Gentlemen, no need to be so tense. I know there are a lot of rumors going around the underworld. Some people are even saying I'm going to kill you all and take over the New York black market for myself."
Isn't that exactly what you're thinking? The six bosses thought, holding their breath.
Jason suddenly slammed his hand on the table. "That's the most ridiculous rumor I've ever heard!" He boomed. "You are all my friends. How could I possibly do such a thing?"
Hearing this, all six of them breathed a silent sigh of relief. At least their lives were safe.
Jason continued, "The situation in New York is not looking good. The cops are watching us closer than ever. We can no longer afford to fight our own battles. We must unite."
"I propose that the Joker Organization takes the lead, and we integrate all of our forces to form a new Gang Alliance. What do you say?"
As soon as the words left his mouth, the six bosses frowned, their minds racing with calculations.
They had long expected Jason to make a play for control of the New York underworld. They had worried he would kill the goose that laid the golden eggs—that he'd wipe out all their established gangs that had ruled the city for decades. As it turned out, Jason wasn't that stupid. His proposal for an alliance was feasible, but the crucial question was the distribution of profits.
Among the seven potential members, the Joker Organization was the smallest but by far the most powerful. It was only right that Jason take the lion's share, and the six bosses were prepared to take a hit. Anticipating this, they had already discussed their strategy in a video conference. The six of them would each take a ten percent cut, leaving the Joker Organization with forty percent. This was the biggest concession they were willing to make; it was their bottom line.
The burly man to Jason's right spoke up. "Forming an alliance is no problem. The question is how the profits will be split."
Jason looked up at the man, who had a Harley-Davidson tattooed on his neck. He was the leader of the biker gang from whom Jason and Franklin had once stolen a batch of valuable motorcycles.
Jason said, "Before we talk about profits, let me outline the Joker Organization's obligations. As I see it, profits must be commensurate with responsibilities."
"First, the Joker Organization will help you sweep away the remaining rival gangs and monopolize the New York black market, ensuring this whole pie ends up on our plate."
"Second, the Joker Organization has moles within the authorities and can provide you with timely and reliable intel on official operations."
"Finally, the Joker Organization possesses immense combat strength. If any of you get into trouble or cross the wrong people, we will fulfill our duty and take care of the problem for you."
Jason scanned the faces of the bosses. "Considering all the responsibilities the Joker Organization is shouldering," He said with a smile, "I think taking a seventy-percent cut of the profits is more than fair, don't you?"
Seventy percent! The faces of the six bosses fell. That was far too much! That meant the six of them would only get five percent each. Less than a single share. They'd just be working for him.
Jason looked at them. "I've laid out the terms. All those in favor? All those opposed?"
The six bosses exchanged complicated glances. Finally, with grim faces, all six of them nodded.
However, as it turned out, communicating with looks is far less precise than using words.
The biker boss completely misunderstood the other five. He immediately raised his hand. "I object!"
The words were barely out of his mouth when he noticed the other five men still had their hands on the table and were staring at him with looks of utter disbelief.
The biker boss's heart skipped a beat. You motherfuckers. You set me up!
Jason stood up. A placid smile was on his face, but a terrifying energy began to glow in his palm.
CRACK!
He backhanded the biker boss across the face.
The immense force launched the man into the air. He spun several times before slamming hard onto the floor. His skull shattered completely. His head collapsed like a deflated balloon as crimson blood slowly pooled on the floor beneath him.
Their boss was killed instantly, but his men, though furious, didn't dare say a word. They all lowered their heads.
"The biker gang's second-in-command. Get over here," Jason said, wiping the blood from his hand with a napkin.
A man in his early thirties walked over and sat down, trembling.
"I'll ask one more time. Who is in favor of this plan? And who is opposed?"
The words had barely left his mouth when all six men across the table raised their hands. "I'm in favor!"
With the corpse of the former biker boss still warm on the floor, who would dare to object?
A smile returned to Jason's face. He raised his glass. "Excellent. Then let's drink to the founding of the New York Gang Alliance!"
The six bosses scrambled to their feet and respectfully clinked their glasses with his.
Jason drained his whiskey in one gulp. "Tomorrow," He said, "I will send my people to handle the handover. I trust you will all remember the vows you've made here tonight."
With that, Jason and his six associates left the restaurant.
The six remaining bosses, their backs soaked in a cold sweat, collapsed into their chairs, utterly soul-crushed.
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