Red Dead Redemption, I Build an Umbrella Company

Located next to St. Denis Park, a mansion on Flavian Street.

Brontë smoked, his expression somewhat gloomy.

“Are you saying they caught up with the Irish and gave them a sum of money?”

Looking at some of the news reported by Lucanapoli, Brontë, who was sitting on the sofa, said in a deep voice.

“Yes, and the Irish have expanded again, and they have also begun to threaten the lower classes.”

“There are many people who come to them and want you to do them justice.” Lucanapoli lowered his head, and his voice was much lower.

“Give them justice?” Hearing this, Brontë laughed angrily.

Although to be honest, he can rise and is inseparable from his own Yiduli people.

But he also believes that he has given rich rewards over the years.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have to run those shady businesses.

For example, loan sharks, or black boxing casinos.

Doesn’t he know that these businesses may bring some hidden dangers?

It’s not about giving some profit to others.

Otherwise, how could he have fallen into such a situation now, and he could only be forced to be beaten.

“Are they involved with the Irish?” Brontë asked towards Lucanapoli.

“As far as I know, no.” Lucanapoli shook his head.

He understood why Brontë would ask that.

As long as the other party has some involvement with those of the Irish gang.

Then you can do articles from many places.

But if not, then his fist will not be able to fight at all.

As for stabbing out the other party’s funding of the Irish gang, this does not have the slightest benefit.

Unless you can really catch the whole game of their crime.

After all, the Federation has never said that business tycoons can’t give their money to others.

More importantly, the other party is not a direct beneficiary.

Don’t say that the other party’s energy is also not small, even if it is a small businessman, such a lawsuit brought to the court will definitely not be won.

“It’s as cunning as a fox!” Brontë scolded indignantly.

“By the way, what about those hillbillies? They didn’t do anything to the tram stop? Thinking of something, Brontë asked towards Lucanapoli.

To be honest, he didn’t take the guy named Ducky to heart.

Earlier at the mayor’s banquet, he told Ducky that they had large sums of cash at the tram stop.

But just to play that bunch of hillbillies.

After all, he originally thought that he might be able to use those people to make some trouble for the other party.

But he didn’t expect that the damned hillbillies would still tell him about gang righteousness.

It’s just ridiculous.

“Count them lucky.” Brontë’s face sank slightly, but he didn’t say anything.

He doesn’t have so much time to care about the hillbillies.

“BOSS, what do we do now? Do you want to…?” asked Lucanapoli tentatively.

Brontë understood what Lucanapoli had not finished saying.

But he didn’t directly scold him like he did at the beginning.

Because things have turned out beyond his expectations.

His power is constantly encroaching, and the other party does not seem to be satisfied.

After a pause of about ten seconds, Brontë finally shook his head slightly.

If it had been more than ten years ago, he would not hesitate to bring a group of people and revolvers to kill each other.

After all, he had nothing to lose at that time.

But now it’s different.

He lures the group of hillbillies led by Ducky to do it, regardless of success or failure, even if the other party knows that it is his hand.

But I can’t do anything with him. (Read violent novels, just go to Feilu Fiction Network!) ）

Because those people were not Brontë’s men, he would not pay them a penny.

Who can say that those people did not do it because of past grudges?

But if he is asked to find someone, or his own forces to get out, it is another matter.

At that time, it must be him who suffers.

So he still has to follow the rules of the game to fight this war.

“No, we can’t be the ones who break the rules.”

Even though he wanted to shoot the other party, Brontë still shook his head.

“In addition to the second-hand trading company, I also heard that the other party has reached a cooperation agreement with a garment factory?” Brontë asked.

“Yes, a factory called West Clothing seems to be producing some goods for them.”

“They also seem to have a partnership with Desmond.” Lucanapoli said some of the intelligence he had gathered.

“Desmond? That damn Roman? Brontë threw the 343 burning cigarette in his hand directly onto the carpet worth hundreds of dollars at his feet.

Directly use slippers to extinguish the burning cigarette butt.

Although he is also a sluggish person, he is not very close to the other party.

In times of poverty, people of the same ethnicity will be good partners in supporting each other.

Rich people extend their friendly hands to their poor people.

But two rich people, except in some specific circumstances, they are in this strange land, in fact, to some extent a competitive relationship.

Unless they have a common enemy.

But now, apparently not.

“Any other bad news? Let me hear it. Brontë said with some impatience.

“Yes, there is also bad news.” Lucanapoli bowed his head and said cautiously.

“They seem to be preparing for the Indian reservation called Wapiti in Ambarino, where they are said to have oil reserves, including Cornwall.”

Getting up from the sofa, Brontë’s eyes seemed to suddenly have a light.

“Bad news? No, that’s good news! “。