This made Rocca suspect that the Syndicate was behind it.
"That's possible!" the person on the phone said uncertainly.
But Rocca ignored it, made arrangements for the follow-up matters, and hung up the phone.
Sitting on the bed smoking, his face was gloomy and uncertain. The more he thought about it, the more he felt that the Syndicate had to be involved.
"Damn it, I won't rest until I've wiped out Gaston Vidal this time!"
He cursed angrily, stood up, and prepared to mobilize his men!
The next day, Leon 'woke up' on time.
He was having his breakfast, but at that moment the entire Old Port district was shocked by a piece of news!
Ferrand was dead!
He had been shot in the head in his own hideout, and all eight of his henchmen were also killed.
This was a shocking case for the gangs of the Old Port district, inevitably making people feel uneasy.
After breakfast, Leon arrived at the Blue Ocean. As soon as he entered, he saw Julien walking over: "Boss, Mr. Vidal just called and asked you to call him back after you arrive!"
"Okay, I understand!" Leon nodded gently.
It was no surprise that it was about Ferrand. Even though it had only happened a few hours ago, who in the underworld doesn't have access to the latest news?
Even Julien already knew.
When he heard the news, his first reaction was to be stunned.
Just the night before last, he had told Leon to be careful of Ferrand's retaliation!
Unexpectedly, Ferrand died just one day later. It was said that he was shot to death in a hail of bullets, which was very tragic!
This made him suspect that Leon was likely behind it.
But he dared not tell anyone!
However, the look in his eyes as he looked at Leon had subtly changed, and he now held even greater reverence for him.
Leon returned Vidal's call, and it was indeed about Ferrand.
"Leon, do you know who did this?" Vidal asked.
"Mr. Vidal, I've only been in the gang for ten days, how would I know who the killer is!" Leon denied decisively.
His tone was nonchalant, as if the matter had nothing to do with him at all.
Leon did not intend to admit to this, because it would not do him any good.
He was already a captain when he first joined the Garnier Crew. Killing Ferrand wouldn't promote him any further; instead, it would provoke serious retaliation from the Santoni Clan.
Therefore, in the short term, it was best to develop cautiously and secretly expand his influence.
Upon hearing that this matter had nothing to do with Leon, Vidal gave some instructions, warning him to be careful of the Santoni Clan's counterattack and to be ready to fight at any time, before hurriedly hanging up the phone.
Hearing the busy tone on the phone, Leon shook his head and smiled: "A storm is brewing!"
The epic battle between the Garnier Crew and the Santoni Clan was about to begin again!
"But it has little to do with me!"
That same day, Paul Rocca telephoned Gaston Vidal. Vidal denied everything, and told him to look for Ferrand's killer among his own enemies.
He slammed the phone down, his face flushed with anger. No one had ever spoken to him like that before. He grabbed a cigar, taking a long, angry drag.
"I'll crush the Garnier Crew," he vowed, turning to his adviser, Mattei. "Is the meeting with Baron set for tonight?"
"Yes, 8 PM at the Mistral Bar," Mattei confirmed.
Rocca nodded. "Make contact with the Italians, the Laurents, the Jourdans, and every other gang in Marseille. We're not waiting."
Mattei left to make the calls, and Rocca walked to the window, gazing out at the lights of the Old Port. His mind was racing with thoughts of power and conquest.
"I'll rule the underworld of Marseille," he muttered. "Just like Carbone and Spirito did before the war. I'll be the king of this city."
The night fell, and soon a sleek car pulled up outside the Mistral Bar. Rocca, Mattei, and two of their men stepped out. They weren't there to make trouble, so they came unarmed, allowing themselves to be frisked at the entrance.
Inside, they were led to a private room where two men waited—Victor Baron, a boss of the Mercier Crew, and his man, Bruno.
Victor Baron had a peculiar look about him, a long face accentuated by slicked-back hair that seemed almost comical. But no one dared laugh. He was young, only twenty-eight, but he was already second only to the leader of the Mercier Crew. His men were known for their ruthless tactics.
Baron stood up, shaking Rocca's hand with a sly grin. "You mentioned something important, Rocca. I hope you're not planning to sell your goods on my turf. Remember, I've got my business to protect too."
Rocca's eyes narrowed. "How would you feel about taking over the Garnier Crew's territory?"
Baron's grin faded. He studied Rocca carefully. "What's your game here?"
"I want revenge," Rocca spat out, his voice cold.
Baron looked skeptical. "You want to start a war over Ferrand?"
"It's more than just Ferrand," Rocca replied, leaning forward. "It's about business. They took the Opera quarter from me. They killed Ferrand and eight of my men, and then Vidal has the nerve to act like it's my fault."
He continued, "If we join forces, we can eliminate the Garnier Crew once and for all. My men will take forty percent of their territory and assets, and the rest is yours. What do you say?"
Rocca finished his pitch and waited for Baron's response.
"What's your strategy moving forward?" Baron leaned back, his gaze fixed on Rocca.
"Squeeze them out," Rocca replied with a grin. "First, we target the Garnier Crew's assets—their clubs, bars, and underground casinos. We'll also disrupt their loan sharking and smuggling operations. Weaken them bit by bit, then deliver the final blow to wipe them out completely."
"And you've considered how they might retaliate?" Baron asked, raising an eyebrow.
Rocca smirked. "We'll start discreetly. Get people to cause trouble at their clubs and bars. We can hijack their liquor deliveries, raid their casinos, and even use customs to interfere with their smuggling routes. With these tactics, they'll be stretched thin in no time."
Baron lifted his glass of whisky, took a thoughtful sip, then smiled. "I like your plan, Rocca. I'm in." He extended his hand toward Rocca.
Rocca's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he shook Baron's hand. The first major step of his plan was in motion, and he could almost taste victory.
The two men solidified their agreement.
A temporary alliance, forged to dismantle the Garnier Crew together.
As Rocca left with his adviser, Bruno turned to Baron. "Do you really trust him?"
Baron chuckled, lighting a cigar. "Trust him? Not a chance. Rocca's not one to be sentimental. Avenging his men? That's just a story. He's likely aiming to draw us into a conflict with the Garnier Crew. When both sides are worn down, he'll be ready to step in and seize power."
"So why agree to the alliance?" Bruno asked, puzzled.
Baron shrugged. "It's a game of chess. We've always been at odds with the Garnier Crew. Why not stir the pot while we can? We might find some gains in the chaos."
"Rocca wants to use us; we'll use him right back," he said with a grin.
Bruno nodded, raising his glass to clink with Baron's. They drank, sharing a knowing smile.
In their world, no one was naive. Every move was calculated, and everyone had their own agenda. It wasn't so different from politics—only the stakes were higher.
As Rocca rode away in his car, he turned to his adviser, Mattei. "See? Baron wasn't hard to sway. Those Syndicate crews hate each other more than they hate us. They'll jump at any chance to take one another down. How are things progressing with the other gangs?"
"We've got the Italians on the line. We're meeting their boss tomorrow. As for the Laurents, it'll be a few days—they're out in Nice."
"And the small crews?" Rocca inquired.
"I'll handle them personally," Mattei replied. "Offer them a bigger cut of the powder profits, and they'll be eager to do our bidding."
Rocca nodded, gazing out at the neon-lit streets, imagining the city under his rule. Soon, he thought. Soon.
For the next two weeks or so, the atmosphere in the Old Port district became tense again, with constant clashes between the Garnier Crew and the Santoni Clan.
Today, the Santoni Clan smashed up a Garnier Crew bar; tomorrow, the Garnier Crew would destroy a Santoni brothel.
They fought back and forth, locked in a fierce battle.
As one of the captains of the Opera quarter, Leon was inevitably drawn into this turmoil, but fortunately he was not a key player.
He still held the same establishments, but his underlings had increased significantly, now numbering over thirty.
But they were mostly thugs and small-time gangsters who watched over brothels, collected protection money, and were good at dealing with drunk and disorderly customers.
If it really came to war with the Santoni Clan, Leon didn't have many capable men at his disposal.
He was frustrated; he couldn't expect the boss to do everything himself!
It made him nostalgic for his time in the Legion when he was a parachute squad leader.
With the squad he had back then, wiping out a hundred gangsters wouldn't be a problem.
What a pity!
"I wonder how those guys are doing!"
Leon reminisced inwardly!
His soul was merged with the original Leon's, so he was naturally influenced by him emotionally, and his memories were completely aligned with his.
At the Blue Ocean Bar, the dance floor was packed with customers, and the beautiful women on stage, dressed in revealing outfits, swayed their bodies to the rousing music.
It was already past 11 o'clock, and Leon hadn't gone back yet; he was still staying here!
As the song ended and the first half of the night concluded, some office workers who had to go to work the next day prepared to leave the bar.
But at that moment, Leon frowned. He vaguely heard arguing, and when he looked over, it seemed to be a group of men and women.
"Thierry, go check on them and tell them to take their trouble outside!"
Leon spoke in a deep voice to one of his underlings beside him.
Julien, Thierry, and Quentin were Leon's three most trusted underlings.
Upon hearing this, Thierry quickly went over. Bars are places where all sorts of people mingle, and it's inevitable that some customers will cause trouble after drinking too much.
This is the time for Leon and his men to step in. Otherwise, why would the bar owner hire them to guard the place?
But unexpectedly, the matter didn't end there; instead, it escalated and eventually turned into a fight.
Ten minutes ago, Claire was chatting with her colleagues in a booth!
She was 20 years old and worked as a teller at a bank. She had just finished the month-end closing of the accounts and had not left the branch until 9 PM today.
She wanted to go home and rest, but the branch manager and several male colleagues said they wanted to treat everyone to a relaxing time at a bar.