America 1919

Jacob Sala was nearly suffocated by the development of Deep Sea Bank.

These past two years, he has been walking on thin ice, cautiously seeking opportunities, and now, the opportunity has arrived.

His own son returned to Miami, becoming the commander of the Coast Guard's Seventh District, and simultaneously brought a huge business opportunity to their family—a bootlegging business!

Initially, Jacob Sala was apprehensive about this business, as he knew who was behind the bootlegging empire.

Provoking Donnie Block in Miami is akin to dancing the cha-cha in front of a lion in a zoo's cage!

But once Jermaine Sala revealed everyone involved in the matter, Jacob Sala's worries vanished!

Jacob Sala also advised Jermaine Sala that once their bootlegging empire is established, they could reach out to Jewish merchants in the United States. After all, they are all of Jewish descent, and if they don't establish connections, they certainly wouldn't acknowledge him as their fellow Jew. However, once he has capital in hand, those Jewish merchants are sure to welcome him back!

"So, does this mean everything's out in the open now?"

Jacob Sala held the phone while talking to Jermaine Sala, having learned of the previous events during the conversation.

"Exactly, Major Bernard has already called Donnie, and you can feel that Donnie Block is very unhappy, but I think even if he's unhappy, there's nothing he can do!"

Confidently, Jermaine Sala said over the phone: "I've never heard of doing business in U.S. waters without fearing the Navy!"

Jacob Sala nodded in agreement, which was why he decided to engage in this business!

"However, while we have the advantage at sea to intimidate Donnie Block, we don't have the same advantage on land. Father, how's the contact with the New Orleans security team coming along?"

If they want to use New Orleans as their bootlegging base, they must establish good relations with the security team.

"It's not that simple!" Jacob Sala said, a bit vexed: "Those people are insatiable; they don't realize that without us shipping bootleg liquor to New Orleans, they wouldn't even have these earnings!"

Jermaine Sala explained: "They've been working with Donnie Block for too long. But don't worry, as long as I'm here, from now on, any bootlegging ships passing through Florida will be detained. At that time, Donnie Block's bootlegging business in the south will be destroyed. Even if the security team doesn't want to cooperate with us, they'll have no choice!"

Jacob Sala smiled with satisfaction: "I think the same, which is why no one knows where our bootlegging factory is except our people. Once this period is over, we can replace Donnie as the biggest bootlegger here!"

Jermaine Sala's tone over the phone was also filled with amusement, saying: "If that's the case, then there's no problem!"

As long as they can cut off Donnie Block's bootlegging channels in the south, both the security team and the bootleg dealers will have to come to them.

Thinking of this, Jermaine Sala was getting increasingly excited.

At this moment, he suddenly heard his father's scolding voice coming from the other end of the phone.

"Hey, hey, hey, what are you doing with that car, driving so carelessly!"

Hearing his father curse over the phone, Jermaine Sala also smiled, as his father was always so concerned about his business.

Just when Jermaine Sala was about to offer a few words of comfort to his father, he suddenly heard his father's terrified voice over the phone.

"You, who are you, you want to...."

"Rat-tat-tat...."

The phone suddenly transmitted the sound of chaotic and intense gunfire, followed by wails and cries.

"Jermaine, Jermaine… rat-tat-tat..."

His father's voice was never heard again over the phone.

"Bastards, bastards, who are you, do you know what you're doing, do you know I am..."

It was at this moment that a busy tone came from the phone.

Jermaine Sala couldn't react; the hand holding the receiver was already trembling violently. He had guessed what had happened on the other end but refused to believe it, so he began frantically dialing back the number, but due to his agitation, he misdialed multiple times.

Finally, he dialed correctly, but no one answered.

In his panic, Jermaine Sala suddenly thought of something, dialing again, this time directly calling his superior, Major Bernard.

"Major, something has happened!"

Jermaine Sala quickly stated while holding the phone.

Major Bernard wasn't aboard the Florida-class battleship recently; he was in Washington. It was rumored that Congress had once again proposed retiring the Florida-class battleship this year, so he needed to roam around Washington. They had just found a way to make money and couldn't retire the Florida-class battleship at this time. If it were retired, he'd at most return to Navy Headquarters as a dispensable Rear Admiral, which would be pointless!