vncnus Page 119
Page 119
But the sheer scale of Victor's team surprised him.
Before the officially designated medical personnel could even take their places on stage, more than twenty Chinese men in sharp suits, with stern expressions and clearly visible hard objects around their waists, quickly and orderly surrounded Viktor.
They communicated efficiently, quickly took a stretcher from who-knows-where, and with the combined efforts of the four of them, they managed to carefully place Victor, who weighed nearly 400 pounds, onto it.
The entire process was fast, accurate, and stable, demonstrating a high degree of organization and professionalism, which contrasted sharply with the chaotic celebration/protest scene on site.
Trump recognized them as members of a Chinese-American gang in Chicago, who clearly only trusted their own people to handle things.
Trump quickly waved to his medical staff to treat Tyson, hoping to have a cash cow for himself.
The press conference is definitely not going to happen—the coach is still yelling at the referee!
But the subsequent diagnostic report the following day shocked everyone.
Victor's old jaw injury was completely ruptured, his masseter muscle was torn, his eardrum was perforated, two ribs were broken, his sternum was fractured, and he suffered a moderate concussion...
Tyson's injuries were equally shocking: a perforated eardrum, a fractured jawbone, a broken rib, and multiple severe soft tissue injuries.
Both individuals were immediately admitted to the intensive care unit for observation and are expected to require major surgery and a long recovery period.
The media naturally went wild.
This "battle of the century" dominated the headlines of all sports sections and even mainstream social news.
Fifteen Rounds of Bloodshed!
A Clash of Iron Will!
The Ultimate Embodiment of Boxing Spirit: Viktor and Tyson, Though Defeated, Are Still Honorable!
Similar headlines are everywhere.
Commentators lavished praise on the two, hailing them as warriors of modern boxing and symbols of the fighting spirit.
Their reputation reached unprecedented heights, and their image became incredibly lofty.
However, as the materials you provided point out, "only Trump is hurt."
As media attention reached its peak, another practical problem began to surface:
The highly controversial result of the match (Victor had more knockdowns but lost on points) attracted an astonishing amount of betting money from around the world. Most bettors favored Tyson to win before the match, but many others were drawn in by Victor's ferocity and placed bets on him pulling off an upset.
Since Tyson ultimately won in a "controversial" manner, bets on Tyson's victory were subject to payouts according to the rules. However, this amount was sufficient relative to the profits that Trump and his associates had anticipated earning through the pre-arranged odds and commission.
But the problem lies in its "controversiality".
Gamblers who placed large bets on Victor, especially VIP clients who had invested huge sums, began filing a large number of complaints, arguing that the match result was unfair and demanding at least a refund of their initial investment or even that the match bets be treated as a "draw" or "invalid bet."
Worse still, the intense and classic nature of the match attracted far more bets from "neutral viewers" than expected. Many of these bets were spread across various detailed options (such as which round the knockout occurred, the specific points, etc.), and these options had extremely high payout rates.
Moreover, for reasons unknown, Trump only set the odds for the first ten rounds, so the result of this fifteen-round match is equivalent to the bookmaker's payout for Trump!
Trump's betting company is facing a massive number of high payout demands.
Ultimately, after an emergency calculation by the actuarial team, Trump painfully discovered that the huge commissions and revenues he received from the tournament, including broadcasting rights, tickets, and sponsorships, were insufficient to fully cover the betting costs, especially for those high-odds bets.
He had hoped to use these profits to pay off debts and make a fortune, but now he faces huge losses.
Looking at the mountain of claim requests and the constant stream of payment reminders in his office, Trump's face was even uglier than the two boxers in the ring.
He angrily cursed the referee's decisions (he felt that the outcome was due to bias towards either side) while painfully calculating the lost dollars. This globally sensational match ultimately became his financial Waterloo.
······
Meanwhile, in the SHW company's conference room, smoke filled the air as the heads of various Chinese martial arts schools in Chicago—including Tai Chi Men, Hung Kuen, Choy Li Fut, and Wing Chun—arrived one after another.
The owners of these martial arts schools often hold multiple positions, such as leaders of the Chinese community or presidents of Chinese chambers of commerce, because they originally had people and guns, so they controlled the most power.
They exchanged pleasantries in a relaxed tone.
Since August, the monthly SHW shareholders' meeting has become a regular event, and each meeting is accompanied by a considerable dividend, which makes the owners quite satisfied with the company founded by Victor.
The original plan of the 23 companies was to make money in US dollars as if it were free money. Now everyone has already recouped one-third of their investment, and they will be able to break even completely by the end of 1985.
They thought this October meeting would just be a formality, a chance to hear the financial report, take the money and leave.
But Old Joe (Li Xiaoqiao) sat in the main seat, his face calm, while his eldest son, Frankie Lee, stood like an iron tower in the shadows behind him.
Jimmy McGill sat on the other side, a stack of documents in front of him, with a lawyer’s enigmatic smile on his face.
The meeting began, and the routine financial briefing quickly concluded.
Just as the owners were about to get up, Old Joe cleared his throat, his voice not loud but instantly stopping all the chatter: "Today, besides the profit sharing, there is something more important to discuss."
He glanced around, his gaze sharp: "We propose replacing Sir (Third Master)!"
A single sentence, like a boulder thrown into stagnant water, instantly plunged the conference room into a deathly silence.
Contrary to expectations, there was no uproar or slamming of the table. The museum owners looked at each other, their faces showing no astonishment or disbelief. On the contrary, some of them chuckled—they had already seen through Viktor's tricks, which were nothing more than a small scheme to get everyone on the same side.
But Sir (Third Master) has been the underground ruler of Chinatown for many years. Although he is ruthless and does many things poorly, he maintains the surface order and is a long-term supporter of the martial arts school.
This is simply unbelievable.
Master Chen of Tai Chi Men, who is also the president of the Chinese Chamber of Commerce, broke the silence first. He stroked his teacup and said cautiously, "If it's about replacing one of our own people, a few thousand US dollars a month is a bit too little."
Master Zhao stepped in to smooth things over:
“Brother Joe, Mr. McGill, this proposal is too sudden. Even though Third Master has his faults, Chinatown has been relatively stable these past few years. We need a reason, a sufficiently good reason.”
Chapter 98 Chinese Americans in Chicago
Jimmy McGill took over the conversation, standing up and speaking with the clarity and deliberation of someone presenting a case in court:
"There are three reasons. First, the nature of Sri. Do you really think he is working for the benefit of us Chinese?"
No, he's a front man for Congressman Ubelman. His interests are tied to Ubelman's; the future of our community has never been his priority. He's just using us to consolidate his own power and Ubelman's votes.
He paused, observing the increasingly serious expressions on the faces of the museum owners, and continued:
"Secondly, the current situation. Under Sri's 'leadership,' has the influence and living space of us Chinese expanded?"
Decades ago, our parents could find stable jobs in factories and restaurants to support their families.
How many of our young people are forced to pick up a 'Chicago typewriter' and become street thugs, fighting and living hand to mouth?
Is this the 'prosperity' that Sri has brought us?
Our influence hasn't even really extended beyond these few blocks!
"Third, the future and the way out."
Jimmy picked up the first document. "Victor Lee has proven through SHW that we Chinese can absolutely take a different path! It's legal, respectable, and highly profitable! SHW entered New York in September and has already expanded to 110 catering vans in a short time! The monthly profit is $350,000."
He displayed the shocking New York financial report, the figures of which made some museum owners gasp.
He then held up two more documents: "These are our contracts for acquiring local food processing plants and meat processing plants, which means we will control the entire chain from raw materials to sales! And this one,"
He patted the last thick plan heavily. "This is SHW's expansion blueprint for 1986 and beyond! We will expand our business to the Midwest, and to the whole of America!"
What we need is direct dialogue with those in power, negotiations with members of Congress, not a mob boss who takes a cut and might even betray us! With SHW leading the way, we can shed the 'gangster' label and fight for our rights and interests with dignity!
Old Joe stood up. "Even if you disagree, SHW has the capability to establish two 10,000-acre grain farms and three urban farms."
The museum owners whispered among themselves.
Jimmy's reasoning sharply exposed the festering wounds of Shrew's rule, while SHW's financial strength and development prospects were extremely tempting.
But years of inertia made it difficult for them to make a decision immediately.
Director Chen spoke again, representing the concerns of most people: "Mr. McGill, you make a very good point. We have seen SHW's achievements. However, Victor... he is still young and inexperienced. Does he have the ability and prestige to lead the entire Chinese community in Chicago to directly confront politicians? How can we trust that he can do better than Sri? The risks involved are too great."
At this moment, Old Joe spoke slowly, his voice carrying an undeniable weight: "Trust isn't something you talk about, it's something you do. SHW's performance speaks for itself, and our Li family's entire fortune is staked on it—that's our credibility. As for the vacuum left by Sri..."
He glanced at Frankie behind him. "The Chinese gangs will handle things on their own. What we need is your 'acquiescence' and support during the transition period to ensure that Chinatown remains peaceful."
He didn't explicitly state the specific meaning of "support," but everyone present understood perfectly.
Jimmy added at the opportune moment: "SHW's success is everyone's success. Future benefits will be guaranteed by the new structure. If you trust SHW, President Blair will discuss this with you in detail and absolutely guarantee that it will be far more transparent and fair than when Shrew was in sole control."
The enormous potential profits, dissatisfaction with the status quo, and the meticulous preparation and strong execution demonstrated by the Li family and McGill ultimately overwhelmed doubts and conservatism.
The museum owners exchanged glances, and finally, Director Chen slowly nodded. The others also fell silent, a silence that at this moment was tantamount to acquiescence.
Before the meeting was over, Old Joe gave Frankie Lee a wink.
Franky nodded expressionlessly and quickly disappeared into the night with his men.
At almost the same time, Siri (Third Master) was enjoying dinner in his mistress's apartment, completely unaware of his impending fate.
Frankie's men easily got the door open under the pretext of having an "urgent matter to report."
The process was clean and efficient, without alerting anyone.
Soon after, Shree and his mistress, along with their entire family of nine, ate a dinner called 'Concrete,' and were then loaded into a concrete truck called 'Oil Drum' by Franky for a one-way trip to the cold bottom of Lake Michigan.
News of the change in leadership of the Chinese gang spread like wildfire through Chinatown's underworld, but the anticipated chaos did not materialize.
The major martial arts schools sent their best disciples to assist Franky Lee's men in 'visiting' all of Sri's important leaders and strongholds.
They either submit to the new order (and the profit-sharing promises brought by SHW) or disappear.
Due to the martial arts school's strong foundation and influence in the Chinese community, and the instantaneous collapse of Sri's core power, this power transition was completed in a very short time.
Overnight, the head of the Chicago Chinese gang changed his name.
On the surface, it's the young Victor Lee and the SHW business empire behind him, but in reality, the one who controls the situation is Victor's iron fist, Franky's ruthlessness, and the tacit approval and support of the martial arts alliance.
The underground layout of Wind City was thus completely changed.
A new alliance, bound by commercial interests, attempting to "launder" its image and infiltrate the political sphere, has replaced the old-fashioned gang management model.
······
The air in Chicago's Chinatown is always a mixture of cooking fumes, exhaust fumes from passing vehicles, and a subtle tension.
But tonight, in that unremarkable second-floor conference room of the SHW Catering Company, there is a thicker, almost tangible sense of anticipation and doubt.
Seated around the long table were prominent Chinese figures in the neighborhood—the head of a martial arts school, a well-known renovation team owner, a vendor who controlled the fresh produce supply channels for several streets, and even a few former gang leaders whose faces carried a hint of江湖 (jianghu, a term referring to the world of martial arts and chivalry), but who were trying their best to sit up straight at the moment.
Their eyes were all focused on the man in the main seat—Blair, the president of SHW.
Blair is not Chinese, but he knows the rules of the game here very well.
The person standing behind him is the real force that brings these people together—Victor Lee, the newly crowned boxing champion, the owner of SHW, and a rapidly rising boxer.