As Su Ming's business gradually got on track, rumors started to spread throughout the streets and alleys of New York Manhattan, with acquaintances often whispering to each other.
"Recently I discovered a good place introduced by my aunt's cousin's son's cousin, that place...tsk tsk."
A plump middle-aged man licked his lips, as if savoring something, while the skinny neighbor talking to him instantly understood, catching a faint smell of alcohol from the Fatty.
Both were trimming their lawns, chatting over the fence as children cycled by shouting and playing, and the postman's blue van was parked at the street corner.
A pet dog from someone's yard passed by the gate, turned its head to look at them with pitch-black eyes and dashed away.
The Skinny got excited instantly; they were not only neighbors but also drinking buddies. Unfortunately, after Prohibition, the wine stashed at home was finished years ago: "Really? God, are you talking about... a place that sells alcohol?"
The Fatty hooked his arm around the Skinny's neck, nearly pulling him over from the other side of the fence, covering his mouth while glancing left and right to check for outsiders.
"Shh, keep it down. It's a membership system, and every introducer is registered. If you're exposed, I'll be in trouble too. In this era, what kind of people do this business? The mob would sink us all to the bottom of the Hudson River."
The Skinny struggled, gasping like a fish out of water after escaping from the Fatty's palm: "Uh...cough, I understand. I promise to keep the secret with my life. Can you take me there?"
The Fatty showed a smile and glanced through the window at his wife knitting inside: "Of course, we're best friends, but..."
The Fatty patted his belly, smiling without speaking.
The Skinny sighed, realizing his friend had finally gotten his way.
"Fine, the secret family recipe for apple pie, you've been eyeing it for decades, haven't you? I'll write it down for you now."
"Haha, that's good. We sneak into the garden at midnight tonight. Today, let's drink till dawn."
..............
Su Ming's bar has been open for two months now, and he increasingly feels like he's in multi-level marketing, promoting his bar by pulling in heads, selling health products.
Moreover, Gin is really clever; without being taught, he proposed a membership introduction system like the one from later generations, which not only makes the business appear classier but also greatly enhances confidentiality.
But the rules aren't absolutely safe, so Su Ming simply broke the pot, acting like a gangster by visiting the police director, along with various congressmen and officials with Gin.
Of course, they visited at night. Su Ming dressed in his full gear while Gin carried a small box, which Su Ming calls the Skywalker Gift Bag.
Inside were whiskey, vodka, rum, and tequila in a gift set, along with a small stack of US Dollars.
Scaling walls, breaking doors, knocking out bodyguards and irrelevant people, then offering these officials a choice.
Be friends, and they will receive a box of nice drinks every Christmas, Independence Day, and other holidays in the future. Be enemies, and they won't have a future; Nightfall Greatsword and Godslayer will slice them to bits as a warning to others.
Corrupt officials, like the mob, can never be completely eliminated, so it's better to buy them off for personal use. Su Ming had no desire to kill anyone unless required, just satisfying his bloodthirsty desire by chopping a few notorious ones on festivities.
Su Ming's efficiency was high, so within just a couple of nights, he visited everyone in New York who mattered.
Except for a few steadfast Puritans who were uncooperative, whom Su Ming tied to rocks and dumped into New York Port, most congressmen and judges chose to accept the fine drinks.
New York is the most prosperous place in the United States, where opposition to Prohibition is greatest. Now if the mob visits with alcohol and weapons, it means there's only one choice.
Either live or die.
They aren't fools; they've already learned from outside sources just how terrifying the person in black-yellow Armor before them is, someone who can sink an entire family along with bodyguards and pets into the sea.
All cleanly done without leaving any trace, making the law useless, and playing against the dark was futile, befriending was the best option.
So Su Ming quickly forged 'friendships' with these wise ones, gaining a certain degree of protection.
As long as he didn't sell alcohol openly in the streets, both the police and inspectors would turn a blind eye.
Once the official matters were handled, Su Ming dealt with other mob neighbors on his own, unknowingly claiming a large turf.
Since idleness didn't serve any purpose, he simply let Gin manage it all; he truly was capable, carrying the fierce spirit typical of Irish people of this era.
He's not like Assassin Gin but more like a dark version of Jarvis.
Su Ming didn't charge protection fees; he only needed underground order, prohibiting drug trafficking and the kidnapping of women and children, giving him a decent public image.
Ordinary people didn't know who he was, but the black-yellow Armor and the Deathstroke code have gained fame in this period.
Su Ming placed Gin at the forefront, handling various affairs while he enjoyed leisure. Most of the time, he sat in his bar's corner, drinking his own brewed spirits, listening to the pianist play jazz, enjoying each day with ease.
When needed, he goes out hunting and fishing, living like a retiree.
On the inner wall of the bar, a sign was hung with the bar's name, whimsically named by Su Ming as the Peace Restaurant.
No one scoffed at the odd name, as bars generally didn't have serious names; names like Dead Man's Head, Pig-Skin King were common, making Peace Restaurant seem more normal.
"Boss."
Gin appeared beside him, quietly consulting him; two months had passed, yet he remained a slender spectacle-wearing male model, though people around began to fear him.
As the number two of a large gang, he indeed commanded quite a deterrent now.
But after all, he was just an ordinary person, believing his boss to be the strongest.
Although Su Ming seemed harmless now, joking with the bar patrons, he knew once Su Ming got serious, even the President in the White House could be dealt with.
Su Ming wasn't aware of his thoughts, and if he were, he'd surely spit on him.
Only a madman would kill Hoover; without that confused man as President appointing a bunch of idiots as cabinet members, how could the US experience the stock market crash and Great Depression? How could isolationism prevail? Most crucially, whether one could get rich overnight depends on that wave during the stock crash.
It's still 1925, but the stock market has already shown signs of taking off; money earned in the last two months, Su Ming used to expand production and gradually invest in stocks, buying shares of General Motors and some oil companies.
The stock market would wildly increase like a bull in these few years, lasting until October 29, 1929, Black Tuesday.
Just leave the market before then, sell stocks, and short them, then Su Ming's plan to form a large arms company would become reality instantly.
Then, directly acquiring a few could be accomplished; the stock crash and ensuing Great Depression and massive unemployment during that period, Colt Company's market value shrank tremendously, just a few million US Dollars could buy it, and Remington Company, which has been making guns since 1700, would be similar by then.
General Motors stock is now only 10 US Dollars per share, but before Black Tuesday, during peak time, it reaches 262 US Dollars; if Su Ming uses funds to mortgage loans from banks and leverages the stock market, stable profits over these years would reach thousands of times.
After the stock crash, shorting would yield another huge sum.
This was a terrifying number, equivalent to advantages brought by the Rebirth.
If one didn't know the exact time of the stock crash, it would be impossible to play like this because historically, those who profited ultimately lost everything, after Black Tuesday, there was a queue to jump off buildings in New York.
Wednesday's newspaper said—the 'human rain falls on New York today'.
Of course, there were smart ones, like President John F. Kennedy's father, Joseph, who successfully retreated before the stock crash.
His famous line was: "When shoe shiners start speculating, it's time to leave."
He earned over a billion US Dollars during the prosperous stock market period, and it's this money that helped his son eventually get elected President of the United States.
Su Ming, like a fisherman, waited patiently and peacefully.