Chapter 5550

Antonio, the underworld emperor of New York, flexed his influence, summoning gang leaders who
rushed in with enthusiasm at his beckoning.

Yet, a twist of fate awaited them in Chinatown, they found themselves bound and gagged, stashed on the
second floor of a roast goose shop. With each new arrival, Antonio’s anxiety mounted.

Seizing a lull between the latest arrivals and the previous group being whisked upstairs, Antonio couldn’t
help but plead with Charlie, “Mr. Wade… I’ve lured all these gang bosses to Syria. I’ve betrayed every
New York gang boss. If they unite against me once we’re in Syria, I won’t make it out alive…”

Charlie smiled and asked, “So, what’s your suggestion?”

Antonio swallowed and replied cautiously, “I’ve been quite cooperative, why not let me stay in New York
and work for you and your strong associate…”

Charlie retorted, “If you stay in New York, won’t you be worried about revenge seekers? You’ve conned
all the gang bosses into heading to Syria. Do you think their families will let you off the hook?”

Antonio’s lips twitched as he tentatively asked, “Mr. Wade, why not allow me to return to Sicily…”

Charlie patted his shoulder and stated calmly, “Alright, Antonio, stop dreaming. Sicilian compatriots are
spread across Europe and the United States. None of them are venturing to Syria to make a name for
themselves. In Syria, justice prevails, those who harm others face retribution and killers pay with their
lives. Among those upstairs, if someone does try to kill you, my old friend Commander Hamid will ensure
you get justice. New York is more forgiving, the body count you’ve left behind wouldn’t let you survive a
week there.”

Desperation filled Antonio’s heart as Charlie remained resolute, but Charlie’s words did offer a modicum
of comfort. It felt as if they were all incarcerated together, albeit with guards and wardens to deter



reckless behavior. This time, however, he had truly offended the higher-ups. Even if he ever returned to
New York, life wouldn’t be easy.

The kidnapping persisted until early morning.

The gang bosses, lured by the Burning Angel’s trick, were bound and silenced before they could grasp
the full situation. They remained unaware of how their trusted Sicilian leader, Antonio Zano, had betrayed
them, keeping them tied up on that dim second floor.

Jagoan didn’t waste words, he secured them as they arrived, leaving Jordan to watch over them. Any
signs of resistance, movement, or indiscreet noises were met with boiling water pouring over their laps.

While it might sound brutal, it paled in comparison to the ruthless tactics these gangsters employed.
Nevertheless, this method proved incredibly effective, none of the ruthless gang bosses dared to step
out of line in front of the steaming pot.

Early in the morning, Wesley and over ten soldiers of the Dragon Temple soared into the skies, on a
Concorde passenger plane, bound for New York.

Unsure of why Jagoan had summoned him to New York, Wesley hurried directly to Chinatown upon
landing.

Upon his arrival, he spotted Jagoan on the first floor and respectfully inquired, “Mr. Jagoan, you urgently
summoned your subordinate. What are your instructions?”

Jagoan gestured to Antonio beside him and explained, “This is the boss of the New York Mafia. Get
acquainted. There are many notable figures from the New York gangs upstairs. You’ll have to greet them
one by one shortly. They’re a headstrong bunch. I can handle them on my own, but they won’t be
convinced without someone of your stature, background and team to keep them in check. At dawn, you’ll



take him and his comrades out of the United States by boat, then transfer to Syria and deliver the cargo
directly to Hamid.”

Wesley nodded promptly and said, “Alright, Mr. Jagoan. Anything else you’d like to convey to your
subordinate, or should I pass a message to Commander Hamid?”

Jagoan glanced at Antonio and quipped, “This Antonio is a genuine Sicilian, but with a limp. Inform
Hamid that since Syria’s medical facilities are limited, there’s no need for elaborate treatment. Get him a
crutch from a carpenter, after all, Hamid’s building fortifications and a limp won’t impede him from
working.”

Antonio felt like he might as well drop dead then and there. He never imagined his life would come to this
point.

Jagoan instructed Jordan to ascend once more and bring Aman down.

Aman, well-traveled and worldly, instantly recognized Wesley upon seeing him. His shock was palpable.
He couldn’t fathom how Jagoan had acted so swiftly. Just hours ago, Wesley had been continents away.
It was astounding that he now stood in New York.

Jagoan directed Jordan to remove the gag from Aman’s mouth.

In a respectful tone, Aman hurriedly said, “Mr. Jagoan… Do you have any instructions for me?”

Jagoan pointed at Wesley and spoke composedly, “Aren’t you always curious about my ties with the
Dragon Temple? Well, the Jagoan of the Dragon Temple is here now, let him talk to you.”

Wesley maintained a stern expression. He feared Aman might utter something treasonous, so he
promptly stated, “Mr. Jagoan, everyone, including members of the Dragon Temple, is on the same side. If
this person makes any disrespectful comments or slanders the Jagoan family, please instruct your
subordinate to make sure he remembers.”



Aman was utterly horrified. His suspicions had been confirmed. It wasn’t the Dragon Temple that bent the
Jagoan Family to their will, but Jagoan who had conquered it.

Wesley, too, experienced a wave of dread. Back at Jagoan Mountain, he had been so arrogant,
threatening to obliterate Jagoan’s parents. If it hadn’t been for Jagoan’s benevolence, his parents might
have faced dire consequences due to his actions.

Moreover, he had severed his own meridians that day. Were it not for Jagoan’s intervention, he’d still be
powerless. His journey from weakness to mastery in the dark realm was all thanks to Jagoan. He felt
profound shame when recalling those events.

Furthermore, he was alarmed by Jagoan’s downplay of their connection. To the outside world, Jagoan
insisted that the Jagoan family had depleted their wealth to secure the Dragon Temple’s support.
Consequently, Wesley was apprehensive, wishing he could broadcast to the world that he had lost, while
Jagoan insisted he’d won.

Upon hearing these words from Wesley, Aman was equally overcome with panic. He hurriedly
apologized, “I’m sorry, Mr. Jagoan. I was influenced by rumors from outside. Please pardon my
impertinence…”

Jagoan smiled and reassured, “No need to be so frightened. I told you, I’m not cut from the same cloth
as you.”

Aman breathed a sigh of relief. At this point, he cared little about whether he was bound for Syria or
Afghanistan, as long as it meant preserving his life.

Jagoan scrutinized him and said earnestly, “Ramovich, you’re distinct from the gang bosses upstairs and
Antonio from Sicily. They’re small fry, unfit for the grand stage, but you’ve been a true oligarch. I believe



you were sharp and resourceful in your youth, but as you’ve grown older over the past two years, you’ve
been dazzled by beauty.”

Aman hung his head in shame. He’d realized earlier that both of his past transgressions had revolved
around women. Yet, his obsession was never with the allure of the opposite sex, his intentions always
ran deeper.

He had sought to win the respect he deserved in Western Europe, yearning to marry Helena. Similarly, in
New York, he aimed to wed into the Antonio family to swiftly establish a foothold. Ultimately, his actions
stemmed from the circumstances he found himself in.

True, he was an oligarch, but due to his identity and background, he remained on the fringes of Western
Europe and North America. What value did wealth truly hold on its own? He might reside in the finest
British abode, but even a British toddler dared to insult him on camera, demanding he leave the UK. He
felt marginalized.

His mind meandered towards the days when he contemplated his life. A persistent theme had emerged
that he was an oligarch unable to claim the recognition he deserved. But these thoughts were triggered
by a lack of genuine power, rather than a fascination with women.

Jagoan recognized this, and his words revealed a fresh perspective. “Aman, neither Eastern Europe nor
Western Europe is your true calling. Europe and the United States don’t suit you either. However, you
may find a new purpose in Syria. I’ll have Hamid pay special attention to you. If you win his favor, you
might discover a fresh direction for your life in Syria.”

From Jagoan’s view point, Hamid came from humble beginnings, just as Aman had. Hamid had risen
through the ranks with a gun, while Aman had crafted his oligarch legend through his intellect.

Their potential collaboration could yield positive results. Aman might not hold Syria in high regard, but he
lacked alternatives. Jagoan chose to tamp down his expectations and encourage him to regard Hamid as



a potential partner, granting him a chance to turn a new leaf.

This process was akin to helping a wealthy man find a partner who met his extraordinarily high
standards, only to scale down the requirements gradually until just one remained, offering a lifeline for
survival.

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