.

He had many names, many names, some of which were personal names and others of which were nicknames. He liked his nicknames more than names, and he liked the nicknames that others called him, because he saw them as an honor, and he saw his nicknames as an honor. He thinks that the bells and whistles are not just some bells and whistles, or that they don't just serve the purpose of the nickname itself. He believes that these different names given to him by his peers or teammates are an affirmation, an affirmation of his strength, his ability, and his status, the "fear" and "attention" of the enemy, and the "admiration" and "envy" of his peers. He was proud, proud, and eventually even conceited.

Whenever he thought of all sorts of strange aliases that seemed comical and ridiculous to his uncle's generation, and whenever he put them in his mouth, he always felt a power welling up in his chest, and he always felt as if he was invincible in a trance.

And now he's forgotten about them all. He may actually remember them, not some, but everything, but he forgot them all. At the same time, he forgot more than that. There were many, many things he had forgotten, and he thought he would never forget them, because in some ways they were all of his present life, all of what he had gained and accumulated in his life. And he has now betrayed them – or rather, betrayed by them.

He relied on them, on that strength, on that strength in his chest, on those memories, on memories that were rooted in his muscles. He'd never been disappointed—though he hadn't used them a few times in total, but they never let him down. And anyone who has experienced it knows how huge, painful, and maddening it will be for a person who has never experienced a setback to break his leg in the first place, and still in the midst of a sprint race that has cost a lot and must never be lost.

When he followed his uncle's back into the huge living room, he didn't know whether the wound on the top of his head hurt more, or the eyes in the room that were staring at him brightly or darkly, virtual or real, or interested, indifferent, or gloating.

Normally, he will not lower his head, will not bow his head into any occasion, even when facing the top of the family, even when facing the elders and seniors, even when facing uncles and leaders, he will try to maintain his image, staring at each other's eyes seriously, and unabashedly conveying his inner strength and voice. He's been doing it all along, and he's had pretty much nothing wrong with it. The flaming confidence was contagious, young and funny, but it was something to be admired—at least in the eyes of most competent elders.

But now he lowered his head. He is no longer the unburdened, proud of his past. He was now a kid who had done something wrong, a kid who had just gotten into trouble after an adult. And even if he is stupid, he understands that this is one of the very important reasons why he is still alive. And another important reason why he is still alive is......

The door to the living room was closed and opened again. The two who had just come in and had not found a place to sit down, and had not had time to make any movements, looked back, and a big man with a round waist strode in, with a powerful aura like a horizontal collision, and his fierce and shrewd eyes swept at will towards everyone present, and an invisible oppression of the eyes was naturally revealed.

Fat man - this man can be said of this, because in terms of body size, he is a fairly standard fat man. However, unlike a fat man in the general sense, although he has a lot of meat, except for the face and four, the belly part is particularly obvious, but it looks very porcelain, not just fat, but the kind of meat that can burst out with quite exaggerated and unscientific terrible power when needed. And such a body shape, combined with the aura and eyes like a thunderous giant axe, made him immediately suppress everyone present from the moment he appeared.

It can be seen that if it is in normal times, this guy is the kind of big crocodile character who talks a lot, is very talkative, very funny, very strong, very active, and basically talks endlessly, "where and where is my place". But today he was obviously not in that mood, it was obvious that he had other more important things to deal with, and it was obvious that there was a little irritability in his impatience, but it was completely easy to control with his huge size.

He waved his hand at the crowd, signaling that they didn't need to make any extra gestures. He walked briskly through the living room, towards an office-like inner room, and said without looking back:

"Come in with me—just yourself."

He didn't name names, he didn't say whom, because there was no need at all. He knew that the man understood what he meant, that everybody understood what he meant, that everybody knew who he was talking about.

All eyes were on the man. The man was straight-waisted, neat and meticulous in a casual suit, and although he had gray sideburns because of his age, he was not at all less beautiful, and he was an orthodox old-school gentleman who could make a girl scream under the right circumstances.

He smiled at the big man's words, shrugged his shoulders helplessly, exchanged glances with the other friends and colleagues present - God knows how much useful information they all got from each other's eyes - and then turned to look at his nephew.

"Stay here, Jaime." He said as softly as he could in a deliberately soft voice, and patted him on the shoulder, "Don't worry, I'll be back soon." ”

“……”

The young man did not speak, did not look up, did not answer. He just stood there with his eyes down, until the old gentleman turned to leave, went into the inner room of the drawing-room, turned and closed the double open door, and separated everything inside from the outside, and then silently walked behind an empty seat, put his hands behind his back, straightened his chest, and raised his head.

The seat was his uncle's. On occasions like the present, a family member of his uncle's level would always have a single-seater of his own, as did all the other high-ranking people sitting in the place. His attendants were not qualified to sit, and they never had a chance to sit down. Usually they were located not far behind the left or right hand of the senior head of the family they were following, and when the head sat down, they would stand behind the chair, just like Jaime now.

So now Jaime couldn't keep his head down. Although his uncle is not here now, his seat is still there, he is still here, and it is necessary and obligatory for him to fulfill his duty and show his posture. Because it's no longer a question of how others see themselves, it's no longer just a matter of what others think of him. It's about his uncle.

He himself has lost enough face, and he has already pulled his uncle to lose enough face. But even so, the amount of face they had left was still very impressive—it would be more difficult to kill someone of his uncle's level than to kill him, much more difficult—and in any case, he could not let this last face be lost.

As for what the other family members present thought of the current ...... What about something a little subtle, but a little funny? It is not known, it is impossible to know, and there is no need to know. A gangster family that has reached a certain scale, I don't know how many times similar situations have occurred, whether it is a person who commits a crime, a person who handles things, or a person who has nothing to do with himself, they all have their own experiences and have their own lessons. They know when to speak, when to shut up, when to do what to do, and when not to do something.

Jaime is a young man, a young member of the family, and he has an absolute flaw in this regard, because experience is not something that can be compensated by talent or talent, it requires years of accumulation, patience and acceptance, luck and summary and review. Then when the time comes, quantitative change will cause qualitative change, and qualitative change will become metamorphosis. At that time, and only then, will young people really grow. Then when they look back, they will suddenly find that they are really thinking too much about many things, and they are just adding unnecessary excess pressure to themselves. Of course, it's not all bad for them.

……

The living room outside is huge, but the office inside is bigger than the living room outside, about a quarter of a football field larger. If anything's missing here – it's probably a beach or a swimming pool, a colony of penguins and Virgil seals lazing in the sun, and a barbecue truck with a 152-caliber cannon.

Donfrey sat down in the huge leather seat. The chair was definitely custom-made, not in terms of size, but in terms of quality - if an ordinary office chair was sat so presumptuous by someone of that size with that momentum, it would have to crunch if it didn't fall apart on the spot. But it didn't make a sound, and it didn't shake it for a moment. It must have been made to order from a place like a munitions factory.

The head of the Donfried family is called Donfly. Unlike Dark Heaven or the Golden Galleon, he directly named his family after himself. Judging from his style and size, it can be seen that he is a very strong and resolute character, and this is also the characteristic of the entire Donfrie family - simple, violent, and direct.

As Don Friew often said, "The easiest way is the most effective way." When you don't know what to do, listen to the first voice that pops up in your head and will guide you out of any situation. ”

That's what Donfrie said, and that's what he did. He hates going around the bend, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have brains. Being big and quick to react has always been his proudest trait. No matter what happens, he can always use his mind to quickly come up with the optimal solution based on his theory, and then act to solve it.

That's why he came to this place early in the morning. There was a problem that had to be solved by him, and he had already figured out a solution. But before that, he still has some necessary words to listen to before making a final decision.

"Now, tell me, Carl - what else do you want to tell me?"