Marvel's Superman

Chapter 362 - 359 | Las Vegas, Better Than Hell.

Chapter 362 - 359 Las Vegas, Better Than Hell.

Luke, who returned to Washington, D.C., couldn't live a quiet life for a few days.

People from the White House, and the Pentagon, took turns visiting every day.

The Red Square Conference had made the conflict between the two superpowers and the future situation very clear.

The whole world wanted to know whose side Superman was on.

To be more precise, everyone was worried.

Would Superman become a 'weapon' and be placed on the battlefield?

Luke never wanted to be Dr. Manhattan at all. In case Howard couldn't get over it and saw him as the biggest threat to the world.

Then he devised a series of conspiracies and finally used the lives of nearly 8 million people in New York as the price to end US-Soviet hegemony over the world and the outbreak of World War III.

And he would stay alone, far away on Mars, completely losing his humanity …

That was boring.

The Watchmen's plotline in the Marvel universe wasn't impossible.

Therefore, in order to avoid the harassment of politicians and to prepare for Captain America's bachelor party before he got married, Luke took Howard to Las Vegas for a special trip.

They were sitting on a passenger plane flying to Nevada, but due to the conditions and not wanting to be victimized by the publicity…

They didn't call a bunch of stewardesses and pole-danced in the first-class cabin.

That kind of corrupt and decadent extravagant life could only be achieved by Iron Man.

"Why would you want to open a hotel and casino in Las Vegas?"

Howard asked curiously.

Nevada, mostly a barren desert, was discovered by Mexican traders and subsequently by a group of Mormons.

It was only with the opening of the Union Pacific railroad that the area began to flourish.

Then came the gold rush that prompted the influx of people.

But just like the mining towns of the West, when the gold and silver resources were depleted, the gold miners would leave and look for the next location.

"First of all, gambling is legal in Nevada."

"Secondly, the Department of War had built a lot of military bases there so that I could spread my influence."

"Finally, I believe Las Vegas will become a rich man's paradise and a gambler's paradise."

Luke said with a smile.

The Las Vegas plan he considered before had long since been completed and put into operation.

By the Mafia people that traveled from Sicily to North America.

At Luke's behest, they didn't compete with their compatriots for turf, nor did they have any conflicts with the Irish people.

Cossa Alessandro, a newcomer, brought his brothers over to gain a firm foothold in New York. They only managed the underground casino business in a few blocks.

In Luke's words, 'let them practice first'.

Running a casino wasn't easy. From security to customers to chip exchange, capital circulation, and so on, they needed to accumulate experience.

Most of the gangsters had no skills.

Apart from using violence, not many knew how to use their brains.

That's why they were keen on high-risk businesses like smuggling and drug trafficking.

In legitimate businesses, there were thresholds in place.

The Wall Street stockbroker's favorite clients were gangsters before.

Because they were quick to pay and never asked about the financial status of the account.

It was just like the entertainment circle of later China, where the most popular investors were the coal bosses.

There were great similarities in nature between the two.

Later, there was also a shocking case in which a daring con man, disguised as Morgan Stanley's to-level broker, tricked the heads of the five Italian families, and even the accountant hired by the Mafia didn't notice anything wrong.

In just half a month, the swindler had extracted nearly 1.5 million dollars and then slipped away.

Of course, later, the heads of the five families issued a 'wanted notice'. With greater efficiency and speed than the federal police, they caught the man four months later.

As for his end?

The swindler wasn't dismembered or drowned.

But in accordance with legal procedures, locked up in a local prison.

Two weeks later, he died of a rectal fissure.

It was said that he had 'roommates' four times.

From fierce men to perverts.

Each roommate had a special interest in men.

It was daily torture.

Finally, he was overwhelmed and died of a rectal fissure.

This incident also revealed that gangsters were good at fighting and getting revenge.

But when it came to economic thinking and dealing with wealth, it was the complete opposite.

Luke didn't want Alessandro's gang to become 'thugs' who were dependent on him and could only do illegal business.

The more stable the social environment was, the less room there would be for gangs to survive.

Sooner or later, they would wash up onshore. Why not stop going to the sea from the beginning and reduce the stains on their bodies?

Just like the saying, 'the way to get rich is written in the law,' the existence of profitable business was basically illegal or in the gray area.

The only thing worth investing in, in a free and democratic country, was probably gambling.

From the past to the present, there were two kinds of businesses: business of the flesh and gambling.

They had never been outdated and were always a 'hard-wired' human need.

"Paradise for the rich … I do have many friends who are attracted to Las Vegas."

Howard pondered, but the "Vegas" this time wasn't known around the world yet.

Its name only spread in the small circle of rich people. Those bastards who had money and no place to spend loved to take their lovers to Las Vegas in droves.

New York's bars, horseback riding, and golfing were no longer enough to satisfy them.

Once the threshold of desire was raised, it was difficult to lower.

"But you're involved with the Mafia?"

Howard, who was leaning back in the plane seat, asked.

He had heard of the legendary story of Superman assisting the Allied forces in raiding Sicily.

But an Army Lieutenant General shouldn't and couldn't actively get involved with the Mafia.

"I was originally an Irish immigrant, and my Uncle painted houses for the Irish Mob."

Luke shrugged and turned to ask, "Do you know how influential the International Truck Drivers Union is? Their President, Jimmy Hoffa, has over 2 million registered members and 8 billion dollars in pensions under his belt."

"How many voters is that? How much glittering money for investment is that? Howard, don't underestimate gangs. Their time is not over until the Cold War ends and peace comes."

Even Kennedy Jr., who would become President in the future, had a delicate relationship with the Irish Mob.

Many people say Italians do business by laundering what was originally illegal, while Irish people fight and engage in politics.

It means that the Mafia went to the sea first and came ashore later. From a gangster to a business tycoon.

And the Irish specialize in uniting unions, making political contributions, and investing in politics.

Their greatest success was probably sending Kennedy Jr. to the White House.

But it didn't turn out so well. The Kennedy brothers weren't as disciplined as their father.

There should be fair trade and exchange of benefits.

After they came to power, they turned around to fix the problems of collusion between unions and the Mob before they could even warm up their seats.

"That's true. Jimmy Hoffa has always been the man of the hour."

Howard looked at the scattered clouds, ended the topic about gangs, and brought up another matter.

"Rogers is really going to get married?"

Luke nodded. His thoughtless words were listened to by Captain America.

A wedding to awaken a former best friend seemed like a solid plan on the surface.

"Steve is going to spend his last night of bachelorhood in Vegas."

When talking about this, Luke was in high spirits.

…

…

On the other hand, in Las Vegas.

An old man with a fedora and a silver cane appeared in the deserted desert.

Perhaps the sun was too hot, and the temperature was too high; his figure looked distorted.

"I can smell … a tantalizing scent."

The old man sniffed, and his mouth opened with a smile.

Like a hungry diner, seeing a feast on the table.

"The last time I was here, there was nothing here."

The old man muttered and stepped forward.

It was as if the space shortened automatically. He quickly disappeared into the desert.

"The insatiable greed, the inexhaustible lust … It's more like hell than Hell."

…