Spring is not spring for everyone.
The Evans Clan couldn’t feel the slightest hint of spring approaching.
They were still living in a cold winter, even colder than winter itself.
Because the clan was dood.
With George’s death.
The clan no longer had any substantial genuine ard force, and thus lost all competitiveness.
Decline was only a matter of ti.
Not to ntion, before George died, he offended the current underground king of Wenster, the Bolita Clan.
So of the higher-ups in the Evans Clan were purely creatures of interest, having already made choices before George’s death, quietly siding with the Bolita Clan.
While so at least had so persistence and empathy, at least helping to organize George’s funeral before planning to change allegiance.
But the funeral had to end soday.
The day the funeral ended was the day the Evans Clan fell apart.
George actually had three sons.
But none of them were promising.
The youngest son, William, even suggested reporting the case when George died.
Let the Security Office handle this matter.
This left the clan’s higher-ups at a loss, thoroughly extinguishing the last bit of resolve.
George was buried yesterday.
Now, the Evans Clan only had one path left, which was to sell off all the assets they could and then completely leave Wenster.
Unlike the Corleone Clan, they had no holand in the Old Continent to return to, they would most likely have to relocate to any other city and live incognito.
The last senior eting of the clan.
Although George’s three sons took his place, those below didn’t take them seriously.
Everyone spoke over one another.
"Actually, we don’t necessarily have to leave. George is dead, and we don’t have such deep hatred with Ethan; if we all submit to Ethan, maybe the loss will be minimal."
Soone offered a relatively wise suggestion.
However, it was naturally t with strong opposition from George’s three sons.
"No way! Absolutely not! Did you so quickly forget my father’s revenge?"
"Hansen, what’s your motive in saying this? Have you already defected to Ethan?"
"Is this still the Evans Clan?"
For a mont, the sound of arguing filled the conference room again.
At this mont, soone suggested that George had contacted the main family in the Royal Capital before his death, maybe they could seek refuge there.
Then they were mocked; with George dead, who knew if that was true or not, who would acknowledge such poor relatives?
It seed another argunt was about to erupt.
Just then, the conference room door was suddenly flung open.
The piercing light shone in, causing everyone in the room to squint.
A person walked in from the light, his posture rather cocky.
In fact, this person had a good appearance; if he hadn’t spoken, just the mont he stepped into the light was quite imposing.
Unfortunately, he spoke: "Everyone, still arguing here? I’m ready to take over everything."
His words were inevitably flippant.
But he couldn’t contain the joy in his heart.
Finally, the day had co.
Back then, the Evans Clan left him with no way out, his family was gone, now he could finally settle the score.
The only pity was that he couldn’t witness George’s death with his own eyes.
This person was naturally none other than Haska from the forr Murich family.
These days, Haska experienced many ups and downs.
When Ethan disappeared, he misstepped.
But after the reckoning, he hadn’t done much against Ethan.
In addition to Palon pleading for him.
Ethan let him go for the sake of their ’friendship’.
Actually, Haska was sowhat useful.
He was suitable for doing things Ethan couldn’t conveniently attend to.
Like now.
Absorbing the Evans Clan.
Haska was the best choice.
People in the underworld knew about the fall of the Murich family; what he was doing now was completely justified as revenge.
No one could find fault.
He walked in boldly, then dragged out a chair and sat across from everyone as if overlooking them.
He was actually imitating Ethan.
He thought his imitation was good because he felt that his deanor made everyone uncomfortable.
This was sothing he couldn’t easily achieve on his own.
"Haska, what are you here for?"
Seeing it was Haska, so senior mbers of the Evans Clan mustered so courage.
They didn’t want to negotiate with Haska.
Even if they were to surrender, they only wanted to surrender to Ethan.
"Yes, Haska, get out! This is the Evans Clan, not a place for a stray dog like you!"
George’s three sons quickly regained their arrogance.
"It seems you haven’t understood the situation."
Haska raised his hand, and his subordinates naturally closed the door.
Then he lit a cigarette, the flickering light revealing they were not his own n, but gunn from the blood-soaked Bolita Clan.
Their trench coats were ink-black, no one knew if they hid a Wenster typewriter beneath.
Under the shadow of these gunn, people finally rembered Haska’s identity.
He was still a second-level real-na holder.
Not soone an ordinary person could provoke.
"I’m giving you one hour now. An hour later, I want to see all the contracts from the Evans Clan signed and on the table in front of , understood?"
Haska took a deep drag, exhaling smoke.
At that mont, he felt like a figure, like the leader of the Murich family.
Unfortunately, the Murich family no longer existed.
The Evans Clan mbers fell silent.
The situation dominated over them.
No matter how despicable Haska was, he had strong backing.
Clearly, Ethan didn’t even give them a chance to et; he seed to be saying, you’re only worthy of negotiating with Haska.
At this point, it was George’s three sons, who were the most steadfast earlier, who knelt the fastest.
William, who had previously clamored about reporting the case, even got up voluntarily, smiling: "Haska... sir, please wait, we’ll prepare imdiately."
As soon as he finished speaking.
The doors to the conference room were once again opened by soone.
Still with a kick as Haska had envisioned many tis but never managed to accomplish.
A clear voice ca in from outside: "Since when did the Evans surna beco so worthless? Even stray dogs from anywhere can rush in to take a bite?"
"Who are you calling a stray dog?!" Haska imdiately snapped, shouting towards the door.
What greeted him was a fist as blinding as light.
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